


Who Let the Dogs Out?

by PanicMoon15



Series: The Avengers Get A Dog [1]
Category: Avengers, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Dog - Freeform, Fluff, Humour, Pet, bad guy fighting, crack!fic, the avengers get a dog
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-05-28
Updated: 2015-01-03
Packaged: 2018-01-26 22:30:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 13
Words: 24,521
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1704905
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PanicMoon15/pseuds/PanicMoon15
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Pepper brings a new friend home and each Avenger has a different experience with him. Tony hates the thing, Natasha's weary, Clint's obsessed, Steve's nostalgic and Bruce just doesn't care.<br/>Can the puppy win all of the superheroes over?? We'll see.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. This was Tony's Fault

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: So, just a cute few drabbles about the Avengers getting a dog. They’ll be a chapter for each person in the tower, and perhaps a few more after, we’ll see. Enjoy!

 

The moment the elevator doors opened and Pepper stepped into the tower’s common room, accompanied by something she _did not_ have with her when she left, Tony knew this was partly his fault for pissing her off that morning.

The _thing_ barked.

Tony knew this was _mostly_ his fault for pissing her off that morning.

“What the hell is that?”

_“Woof”_

This was _100%_ his fault.

Pepper smiled evilly “ _He_ ’s a dog, Tony.” She cooed at the animal. “He’s a lab mix, aren’t you, baby, yes? You’re a good puppy, huh?”

“No.” Tony said, standing up from his position on the couch and standing opposite Pepper and the _thing_ , leaving the whole width of the room between them. “Not a chance.” Tony clarified, folding his arms across his chest. “Nope.”

Pepper looked back to Tony and raised a brow in defiance, never looking away from him while she spoke. “No? Well, perhaps if you had come with me to the shelter for the fundraiser, like you _promised_ , I would have been less inclined to make a new friend. Maybe you could have convinced me not to bring this gorgeous baby home.” Pepper’s clipped ‘I’m livid with you, Tony Stark’ tone, melted away towards the end of her sentence as she petted the head of the _thing_. She was treating it like was a _baby_. The _thing_ like a _baby_.

“My tower, my decision. We are _not_ keeping that _thing_. I am putting my foot down.” Tony literally put his foot down and Pepper rolled her eyes.

“Excuse me, but this tower is 12% mine-,”

“- Will you never let that go, woman-,”

“And he is not a _thing_ , Tony.” Pepper looked down at the _thing_ and Tony screwed his face up in distain. “We are keeping him. Final.”

“Noooooooooooo!” the whine was so resonant that Tony was sure he had actually summoned the two assassins who appeared next to Pepper from the elevator. “It probably has diseases!”

“What has disea-,” Clint stopped mid-word, his confusion giving way to a ridiculous grin at the _thing_. “When did we get a puppy?” he almost sang, dropping to his knees in front of the _thing_ as his voice raised a few octaves.

Before Tony could even mock him, Natasha interjected. “What is _wrong_ with you, Barton?” she said, moving closer to Tony, away from where Clint was rubbing the belly of the _thing_.

“You’re a cute puppy, you’re such a good puppy.” Clint continued, ignoring his girlfriend.

“See, Clint likes him.” Pepper boasted. “What do you think, Natasha?”

Natasha stood across from Tony and eyed Clint and Pepper’s general direction with such distain that Tony thought she might physically be sick. “It’s not even a puppy, it’s a giant _dog_!And I think Barton’s an idiot- oh for God’s sake, Clint, stop letting that _thing_ lick your face!”

“See, she get’s it. _Thing_. Right, Romanoff. _Thing_.” Tony gestured wildly towards the Russian.

Clint continued to let the _thing_ lick him. Natasha twisted her face. “I am never kissing you again.” She mumbled.

Pepper rolled her eyes and dropped the leash into Clint’s hand, coming over to stand by Natasha. “But, Natasha, look how cute he is!” she nudged her shoulder slightly. Natasha’s ridged posture failed to change, but when the Clint brought _it_ over to her and the _thing_ lay down over her feet, her expression softened slightly.

“No! No, Romanoff!” Tony cried, “You were my only hope, you were the only one who could have really said no to that _thing_ living here, and who Pep would have listened to! No…” he trailed off in defeat, heart sinking when Natasha awkwardly patted the thing’s head.

Natasha ignored Tony’s pleas and instead looked to Pepper. “Will it shit in the tower?”

“No, he’s house brok-,” Pepper attempted to reassure her friend, but Natasha cut her off.

“Will it pee in the tower?”

“No.” Pepper smiled slightly, sensing she was breaking the red head.

“Chew my stuff?”

“Nope.”

“Chew Stark’s stuff?”

“Er…no?”

“Can we _train_ it to chew Stark’s stuff?”

“Hey!” Tony exclaimed.

Pepper grinned, knowing she had succeeded. “You can train him to do whatever you want, Natasha.”

“Fine.” Natasha rolled her eyes at Clint’s shit-eating grin. “The dog stays.” She declared and Tony fell to the floor dramatically.

“Not dog, _thing.”_ But his rambling fell on deaf ears as the other three human’s in the room began fussing over the _dog._ Well, Natasha just watched as Clint and Pepper fussed, but she wasn’t kicking it, which Tony unfortunately identified as an indication that she didn’t hate it.

 _Well, fuck._ Tony thought. _The Avengers have got a fucking dog._

“I hate you all.” He pouted.


	2. Steve's a Stereotype

The 21st century was confusing.

Dish Washers: helpful but confusing.

Cell phones: useful but confusing.

Xbox: awesome but confusing.

The internet: helpful, useful, awesome, terrifying _and_ confusing.

All of these things meant that for much of the free time Steve had, he spent it occupied on his floor becoming more familiar with the technology and culture of the 21st century, with the help of JARVIS- again, something he found confusing.

Tony had assured him that with some practice, he would eventually become just as tech savvy as the rest of the Avengers, minus Thor, who was even more in the dark than Steve. As of yet, however, Steve was finding himself becoming even more overwhelmed by the sheer volume of things he needed to catch up on. Tony had even started giving him lists of things to read up on at the beginning of each week. For the most part he ignored them. Sometimes he thought that Tony thought he was from the Stone Age, and had only arrived in the 21st century yesterday, with some of the things that appeared on the lists. But occasionally something would catch his eye, or Tony would add a small note to a point, with a reason _why_ it was necessary for Steve to know such a thing.

This week’s list had consisted of:

-       _Breaking Bad, tv show on Netflix_

-       _Netflix_

-       _Orange is the New Black_

-       _Lesbians_

-       _Pluto is no longer a planet_

-       _Internet boobs…or dicks, whatever you’re into_

-       _How to delete your browser history – come find me, I’ll teach you_

-       _The Spice Girls_

-       _Cat videos_

-       _2 Girls 1 Cup_

Steve tossed the list on his desk and shook his head at some of Tony’s audacity. The man really didn’t have a filter. Despite having ignored most of Tony’s suggestions, the browser history had peaked his interest and he had decided he would at least ask Tony what it meant.

He strolled out into the living area of his floor and into the elevator, deciding the common floor was where Tony would most likely be at this time in the afternoon. The elevator came to a gentle stop and JARVIS announced the ‘Common Floor’ as the doors slid open.

Before he had even managed to step into the room, Clint was dragging him towards the couches where Tony and Natasha sat in silence, equal expressions of revulsion on their faces. Both Avengers looked up as Clint forced him down onto the adjacent sofa, Natasha nodding in greeting, Tony just sighing heavily.

“What’s wrong with you two?” Steve asked, before glancing to Clint who sat next to Natasha.

“My girlfriend hates me.” Tony grumbled.

“And…?” Steve prompted, looking between the three.

Clint smiled, a huge contrast to the faces on Natasha and Tony. “Hey, Steve, do like dogs?”

He barely had time to open his mouth before Tony threw up his arms and stormed to the other end on the room. “Are you kidding?” Tony whined to Clint. “He’s Captain American Stereotype. Of _course_ he likes freaking dogs!”

“What’s going on?” Steve asked. That familiar feeling of confusion was creeping up on him again.

Tony appeared to ignore him, continuing his rant. “He loves everything a good American stereotype should. His e-harmony profile would be ‘Steve Rogers. I love white picket fences, fourth of July parties, long walks on the beach and one day I want 2.5 children in a house with a huge back yard” he began shouting “so that my stupid _dog_ can run around, because oh, yeah, I _LOVE FUCKING DOGS!_ ”

“I didn’t know you were into that kind of thing, Steve.” Natasha smirked. “Kinky.”

Clint laughed and wrapped an arm around Natasha’s waist.

Steve felt his cheeks heating up and coughed uncomfortably. “I, er, don’t-,”

“Admit it, Steve.” Tony sighed, coming back over to sit next to Natasha. “You like dogs, don’t you?”

Natasha’s smirk had been replaced with her expression of distaste, Clint was grinning next to her with the air of a five-year-old on Christmas, and on the other side of her, Tony just looked sad. All three of them watched him, waiting for an answer.

“I mean, yeah, I like dogs-,” Clint whooped at Steve’s confession and Natasha elbowed him in the ribs “but not in a _weird_ way.” He finished.

“But you’d have a pet one?” Clint asked.

Steve smiled, still not entirely sure where this was going. “Well, yeah, I guess I would.”

Tony slid off the sofa onto the floor. “God damnit.” He said into the carpet.

The elevator doors opened and Steve turned to see Pepper enter the common floor. He was about to greet her when he spotted the leash in her hand and the furry, tan, dog at her feet. He whipped back around to Clint, suddenly feeling the excitement that Clint’s expression showed, overtake his senses.

“We got a dog?” he asked Clint, who nodded, quickly standing and dragging him over to where Pepper was unclipping the dog’s lead from its collar.

The dog bounded over to Clint, jumping up at him and barking excitedly. “Isn’t he cute?” Clint said, fussing over the pup.

The dog stopped jumping up at Clint and instead turned his attention to Steve, bouncing playfully around his feet. Steve petted him and sat on the floor, letting the dog lick his face. “Pepper, you got us a dog?” he asked, not actually looking away from the dog to ask her the question.

He heard her laugh. “Yeah, I went to a fundraiser at an animal shelter this morning and I couldn’t resist him.”

Steve couldn’t blame her. The dog was extremely cute; big, tan and excitable. It reminded him of his own dog, back in Brooklyn when he was a kid. Of course his looked nothing like this beauty, but the companionship felt the same. The dog gave him a final lick before deciding it was time to greet the others in the room.

The dog ignored Tony, who was still dramatically sprawled on the floor, and bypassed him to jump up on the couch next to Natasha. She raised her eyebrow at the dog and Steve couldn’t help but smirk at the fact that her death glare did nothing to deter the dog from climbing onto her lap.

“No! Off! You are too big to sit on my lap!” she shouted, pushing the dog off and standing up. The dog watched her with sad eyes, and Steve couldn’t understand how _anyone_ had the willpower not to simply melt at the look the pup was giving her.

“Come on, Tash.” Clint said from beside Steve. “He loves you.”

Natasha looked as though she might either stab the dog or stab Clint, but instead she walked over to the elevators, throwing a “I’m going for a run.” over her shoulder.

“Don’t worry” Clint shrugged, getting up and following Natasha, “she’ll come round.”

Steve wasn’t too sure about that and his suspicions that Natasha’s relationship with their new dog would not improve, was only strengthened when he watched her attempt to make the dog stop following her into the elevator.

“Go!” she said firmly and pointed towards Steve, staring the dog down.

The dog made a pathetic whine as he walked away form Clint and Natasha, tail between his legs.

As the elevator doors closed on the two assassins, Steve was sure he heard Clint say something along the lines of “Aww, Tash, you made him cry.” And the echo of a hand-to-torso slap resonated slightly.

The dog’s tail quickly began wagging violently again once Steve whistled him over and started petting him. He flopped onto his back, inviting Steve to rub his belly, paws in the air, tongue hanging out.

“See” Pepper said to Tony “ _Steve_ likes him.”

Tony didn’t bother to reply, but he did make the effort to stand up next to Pepper, making him look less like a petulant child.

“Does he have a name yet?” Steve asked, getting sick of referring their new pet as ‘the dog’ in his head.

Pepper shrugged. “The shelter called him Skittles”

“Skittles?!” he and Tony exclaimed together.

“Yeah” Pepper said “But I thought maybe we could rename him because Skittles is just…”

“Stupid?” Tony supplied, and Steve had to say he agreed with the billionaire.

“Exactly” she confirmed. “Any ideas? I know Clint has a few, but I have yet to hear them and Natasha has called him a few choice things but nothing we can really shout out in the park…”

Steve could only imagine.

“What were you calling when you took him out before?” Tony asked, uninterestedly skimming through something on his phone.

Pepper leaned back against the sofa. “I didn’t have to call him. I never let him off the leash.”

The dog in question began to whine slightly and nudged Steve’s hand with his paw.  “Sorry, buddy. Was I not petting you enough?” Steve apologised the dog, scratching his ears with one hand and rubbing his belly with the other.

“Hey, Steve” Pepper said, coming to sit on the floor opposite him so she too could give the dog some attention, “did you have a dog growing up?”

Steve smiled, thinking back to his childhood in Brooklyn with Bucky. He swallowed past a lump in his throat, which formed unexpectedly, and instead focused on memories of his puppy.

“Of _course_ , he had a dog, Pepper.” Tony said without looking up from his phone. “He probably had a dog that followed him everywhere, who he fed scraps of bacon fat too and who caught rats in the barn, and it probably ran alongside him when he rode his horse bare-back through the dirt-track streets, and who barked at anyone who tried to steal his shoes, and then when it got old, Ma told him to take it out-back and put it down with a shot-gun.”

Steve looked to Pepper, who was looking at Tony, who _still_ did not look up from his phone. When neither of them spoke for a few seconds, Tony looked up and shrugged. “What?”

Steve shook his head. “You know my childhood was in Brooklyn in the 1920s, not on a farm in 1832?”

Tony shrugged again and Steve rolled his eyes, turning back to Pepper.

“Yes, I did have a dog” he glanced at Tony “but I did _not_ own a horse…or a barn.”

“What was its name?” Pepper asked.

He thought of the little black and white, wiry-haired terrier that yapped whenever someone knocked on the door and who had never been trained to do anything more than not run out into the street.

“He was called Rover.”

Tony appeared to choke on nothing as a disbelieving grin formed on his face. Even Pepper’s eyes widened slightly.

“You’re _kidding_?” Tony said, grin becoming disconcerting.

“What?” Steve looked from Pepper to Tony and even chanced a glance at the dog who was watching him carefully.

“Jesus Christ, Rogers. You called your dog _Rover_? It’s like I couldn’t even make you anymore of a stereotype, even if I tried.”

Pepper snickered, but smiled at Steve apologetically and he couldn’t help but smile with them too.

The dog barked, no one paying him adequate attention any longer and Steve looked back to him.

“So… I take it we won’t be naming him ‘Rover’?” he guessed, secretly glad his childhood dog’s name would remain sacred to that little terrier, well at least sacred in terms of dogs Steve would have ownership of.

“I swear to God” Tony said “if we are keeping this freaking dog it better have an awesome name.”

Steve considered the dog for a second and looked over at Tony. “What about naming him-,”

Tony interrupted, “If you say Fido I’m going to have an aneurism.”

Steve closed his mouth.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Review please, thanks for reading. :) xxx


	3. Bruce is High

The labs in the newly christened ‘Avengers Tower’ were huge.  They were massive, they were top of the range, and Bruce had to admit, they were extremely impressive. All of these facts meant that Bruce had found himself over the past few months of living in the tower, spending a majority of his time, in one lab or another just doing, well, stuff.

He was working, yes. Actually making significant progress in his research, but that was only in office hours. Office hours were technically 9am-4pm with an hour for lunch, Monday-Thursday. That was what he was getting paid for. So when Tony came blundering into one of the more quaint labs, albeit no less impressive labs, at 4:58pm on a Friday, Bruce was concentrating on less professional endeavours.

“Banner, you will never guess what she’s gone and done-,” Tony paused, looking at the odd array of objects lying on the counters in front of Bruce. “What are you _doing_?” he asked, taking a further step into the lab and picking up what looked like a torn off pocket of a pair of blue jeans.

Bruce took off his glasses and heavy-duty gloves and sat down at the desk. “Just looking into something.” He shrugged, reclining back slightly.

Tony dropped the piece of denim and sat down in the other chair. “Seriously, what the fuck?”

“I’m looking into finding a way to incorporate some kind of Kevlar into other materials.” Bruce said, gesturing over to the counter where many more ripped pieces of fabric lay. “You know, so you could be protected without having to wear a vest.”

Tony appeared vaguely impressed for half a second before he seemed to remember _why_ he had burst into the lab uninvited at a million miles an hour.

“Cool. But we have more pressing issues.” He said.

Bruce sighed and crossed his arms over his chest. “And what would these issues be?”

Tony swallowed and steeled himself for the horrible truth he was about to bestow upon Bruce. “It’s Pepper.” he took a deep breath, “She bought a _dog_.”

Bruce shrugged, expression unchanging. “So?”

“So? _So_?” Tony practically shouted. “Are you _high_? Pepper bought a fucking dog! A huge one that she intends to keep in the tower!”

“So?”

“Holy fuck, you really _are_ high.” Tony said more to himself than Bruce. “I was right about that big bag of weed, wasn’t I?”

Bruce rolled his eyes and sat up straighter in his chair. “Tony, I’m not high. I just don’t see what the problem is. It’s one dog in a tower with like seventy floors, you’d never even have to see the thing if you didn’t want to.”

“It’s the _principle_.” Tony stressed.

“Tony, it’s a _dog_. I’m sure no one else cares.”

“Actually, Barton and Spangles are both obsessed with the stupid thing.” Tony pouted and Bruce shook his head.

“And Natasha?”

“Romanoff was my last hope of getting that thing back into the shelter, but…” Tony trailed off with a flourish of his hand.

“She likes it, too?” Bruce guessed and Tony looked as though he was about to collapse.

“God no, but she doesn’t want to murder it, so… I think Barton has more of an affect on her than she’d ever admit. Don’t tell her I said that.”

“Is this going anywhere other than you ranting at me about a dog, or can I get back to work?” Bruce didn’t wait for Tony answer before he got up and put his glasses back on, going back to his many scraps of fabric.

Tony let his head loll back and groaned loudly. “So, there’s no chance I can convince Pep that having the flea-bag in the house will turn you into the jolly green killing-machine?”

Bruce didn’t dignify that by looking away from his research. “No, Tony.”

Tony grumbled to himself, much to the amusement of Bruce. “Stupid fucking dog.”

 

Xxxxxxx

 

At some point Bruce blocked out Tony’s rambling about the dog, which was now apparently roaming the tower, and _apparently_ at the lack of attention from the doctor, the billionaire had left. That had been on Friday, and given all Bruce had heard from Tony was radio silence for the past day and a half; he thought that perhaps the whole dog-thing had been cleared up.

Frankly, Bruce hadn’t given it a second thought, far too involved in his work to even go anywhere else in the tower except his bedroom, and even that was an extremely short stay. It wasn’t unusual for Bruce to isolate himself for days at a time when working on a project, in fact, he liked the solitude once in a while, but the niggling for some human interaction was making itself known and he decided to give the Kevlar clothes a rest for the remainder of his Sunday.

After showering and getting dressed in clothes he _hadn’t_ slept in, Bruce went to the common floor of the tower in search of his friends, or perhaps just a sandwich.

Bruce could hear the sounds of a commotion before he had even exited the elevator, but as the doors opened on the common floor, the voices became clearer.

“No, that is just stupid, Rogers.” Tony was saying as Bruce rounded the corner into the living room. “You can’t name a dog after a city.”

“I _like_ the name Brooklyn.” Steve argued back.

“Who are you? The Beckhams?” Tony countered.

Steve’s face went blank. “Who?”

Tony shook his head and smiled when he saw Bruce, waving him over. Bruce gave a small wave to Natasha who glanced up at his entrance, smiled, and went back to her book on her position on the couch.

“Banner, what would _you_ name the dog?” Tony asked and Bruce looked uncomfortably between Steve and his expectant faces. When he failed to give an answer, Steve spoke.

“I like ‘Brooklyn.” He smiled.

“And _I_ think its stupid. So does Nat- right?” Tony pointed to Natasha who didn’t even glance their way.

“Don’t call me ‘Nat’, Stark, or I’ll stick this book so far up your ass you’ll be able to read it without opening your eyes.” She deadpanned.

Steve blushed and Tony turned back to Bruce, dropping his voice a few decibels. “What does that even _mean_?”

Bruce shrugged.

“And,” Natasha spoke again and the three men turned their attention to her, “I think ‘Brooklyn’ is stupid too.”

“Ha!” Tony punched the air and Steve huffed.

Natasha looked up from her book, placing it down next to her. “Don’t get so excited, Stark. I think your idea is stupid too.”

“What’s your idea?” Bruce asked.

“Colin.”

Bruce blinked. “Yeah, she’s right, Tony. That is stupid.”

Tony huffed and Steve grinned.

“Colin is a _great_ name.” he protested in Natasha’s general direction.

“Yeah, but for a dog?” Bruce sat on the edge of the opposite sofa to where Natasha was watching them. “I mean, don’t people usually call dogs names like ‘Fluffy’ or, I don’t know, ‘Rover’.”

Steve’s grin could have powered Avengers Tower for five years, Bruce was sure of it. Natasha rolled her eyes.

“ _See_.” Steve grinned at Tony.

“Shut up, Rogers.” Tony grumbled, storming out of the room, Steve on his heals.

“Wait, Tony.” Steve was calling, laughing as he spoke, “I want to tell you all about my stereotypically American upbringing!”

Once they were gone, Natasha sat up slightly straighter and addressed Bruce. “So you heard we got a dog?” she asked.

“Yeah”, Bruce said, “Tony was complaining about it on Friday, but I hadn’t heard anything since. I thought he’d managed to convince Pepper to take it back, but…” he looked in the direction Steve and Tony had disappeared to, and smiled before turning back to Natasha, “…apparently not.”

“We’ve had the dog for two days and it’s still being called ‘Dog’. Pepper thinks he needs a name, so the guys have been fighting about it since.” She smirked. “So far, I’ve taken the executive decision to out rule ‘Rover’, ‘Brooklyn’, ‘ _Colin_ ’, ‘Arrow’- you can guess who that was-,”

Bruce could.

“-And ‘Iron Dog’.”

Bruce raised his eyebrows in question.

Natasha shrugged, “Stark had more than one idea.”

“Ah.” Bruce said.

The elevator door opened and Clint walked in, a tan dog on the end of a leash in his hand, trotting in next to him. Bruce gave him a wave and Clint nodded.

“Hey, doc. How you doin’?” Clint asked, unclipping the dog’s leash.

“I’m pretty good. So, that’s the object of Tony’s hatred?” Bruce nodded towards the dog who was excitedly bounding over to Natasha. The dog, far too big to be a lap-dog, jumped up onto the couch and began climbing onto Natasha’s knees.

“Yeah, that’s him,” Clint smiled, sitting next to the doctor, “but he’s coming round. He hasn’t called him _‘thing’_ since yesterday, so…”

Bruce looked back over to Natasha and the dog. She was growling commands at it angrily in Russian, which from the dog’s reaction to her, seemed to be either ‘sit’ or ‘get the fuck off me’. Either way, the dog leapt down and sat at her feet, tail still wagging even after it’s reprimanding.

“Tasha and him…” Clint gestured to where his girlfriend and the dog were watching each other carefully, “…well, they have a few kinks to iron out.”

“A few kinks?” Bruce asked.

Clint turned to him, winding the leash around his hand. “The dog loves her, but she would rather he lived on the roof.”

Bruce smirked as the dog attempted once again to place himself on Natasha’s lap.

“Hey!” she snapped, and the dog lay down at her feet, looking up with sad eyes and whining. Natasha rolled her eyes. “Don’t look at me like that. I saved you from having a stupid name like ‘Colin’.”

“Wow, that is stupid.” Clint said, turning to Bruce. “That you?”

“God, no. Tony. I couldn’t care less about the name of the dog, quite frankly.” Bruce stretched and repositioned himself on the couch. “But you know, Colin, for a dog, just seems…”

Clint sat down on the floor next to Natasha’s feet and petted the dog. “Stupid?” he supplied.

“Yes.” Bruce agreed.

Bruce watched as Clint fussed over the dog and Natasha looked on, seeming more disturbed by the display of affection than anything else. He smirked and shook his head. Natasha might be absolutely terrifying, and her threats might be very, very real, but even from his position across the room, Bruce could tell that Clint had a calming effect on her.

Her expression changed and became a smirk when the dog rolled onto his back and Clint rubbed his belly. Natasha rolled her eyes. Even as he stroked the dog, Clint kept a hand on Natasha’s ankle, rubbing small circles on the skin there.

Bruce wouldn’t dare ever admit to the assassins that he had ever seen such an intimate act, but he smiled, having witnessed it.

It might be downright out of the question that Natasha Romanoff would even be considered ‘soft’ in any sense of the word, but Bruce thought that perhaps Clint Barton had had some impact on her over the years. She hadn’t kicked or threatened to maim the dog once, and in his book, Bruce thought that must be some kind of success.

He stood up and walked towards the elevators. “I’ll see you guys, later.” He called over his shoulder and the other two Avengers looked up from the dog. “Let me know when he’s got a name.”

“Sure thing.” Clint said.

Bruce stepped into the elevator and once more called out to his friends with an afterthought. “I kind of like ‘Kevlar’ for a name.” he smiled.

Even as the doors closed, he heard Natasha’s answer. “No, it’s stupid!”

Bruce laughed to himself. It seemed as though Natasha was the one most concerned about the dog’s name. Perhaps she liked him more than they thought.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Reviews are much appreciated!!!  
> \- Panic xxx


	4. Pepper Knows They'll be Alright

Six days. For six days Pepper had woken up to an argument regarding the dog, gone to work, and _returned_ from work, to an argument about the dog. She was sick of it.

It didn’t help that they were all still calling him ‘the dog’ and it seemed, no closer to finding him a more permanent name. She had left it to the Avengers to choose their new pet’s name, given she did spring his appearance on them all rather suddenly and without discussion, and because they were the ones who would be looking after him mostly, given she was out at work a lot. This was a decision Pepper was beginning to regret.

The shelter of course had already given him a name-Skittles- but the name was so stupid that when they had micro-chipped the pet for her before she brought him home, on the ‘Pet Name’ section of the form, she had simply written “Avenger”, with the thought that they could change it if they wanted to. Having mentioned this to Natasha a few days earlier, and only a few days into the name fight, Natasha had immediately rolled her eyes and said that there was _no fucking way she was going to be shouting that in the park. And anyway, it was too conspicuous._

Pepper had then just stayed out of it, but she was at her wits’ end and couldn’t stand to hear another shouting match between Tony and the others about the stupidity of the name, ‘Colin’. For the record, Pepper agreed with everyone but Tony; it was stupid.

“Hey there, doggy.” Pepper said on entering the common floor and finding it unusually empty for that time in the evening, only the dog occupying it, sniffing around the area of the couch that Natasha usually occupied.

At her voice, the dog looked up, and tail wagging violently, trotted over to Pepper, and jumped onto his hind legs, demanding attention.

“Okay, okay. Get down.” Pepper said, crouching down and fussing over him. “Where is everyone, eh?” she asked, standing back up. The dog looked at her blankly, it’s head cocked slightly to the side. “Come on, show me where they are.” Pepper encouraged, only to be met with the same blank look. “Come on, doggy. Lassie could do it.”

At the lack of petting he was getting from Pepper, the dog wandered back over to the spot on the couch he had been sniffing and jumped up into Natasha’s seat, knocking a book off the edge in the process. He glanced down at the book, now open on the floor.

“Well thank you, for that helpful information.” Pepper said sarcastically and made her way over to the kitchen in search of some coffee, or some human company.

It was eerily quiet in the kitchen, too. Two mugs Pepper recognised as belonging to Clint and Natasha were abandoned on the kitchen table, still half filled with coffee. She picked up Natasha’s mug, the cup cold. Pepper frowned, something wasn’t adding up. Of all the people to leave _anything_ around the tower, it was Clint and Natasha who _did not_ abandon coffee, not unless there was an emergency…

“JARVIS?” she asked.

“Yes, Miss Potts?” the AI replied politely.

“Where are the Avengers?”, she poured the cold coffee down the drain and placed the assassins’ mugs in the sink.

“I believe the Avengers were called out by Director Fury three hours and twenty-two minutes ago.” JARVIS said.

“What?!” Pepper cried. “JARVIS why didn’t you tell me?”

“I just did, Miss Potts.”

“Don’t get smart with me!” Pepper pointed at the ceiling. “I mean why didn’t you tell me as soon as I walked in the door?”

“You did not ask as soon as you walked in the door, Miss Potts.”

Pepper groaned and stormed back into the living room. The dog looked up as she entered. She sat down opposite the dog and pulled out her phone, quickly dialling Tony.

It only took two rings for him to answer, but as soon as he did, Pepper’s heart sank when she heard the tinny quality of the call, indicating he was talking from the suit.

“Hey, babe.” He said breathlessly and an explosion sounded somewhere in the distance.  “Hey, Cap, to your right!” he shouted and Pepper gasped.

“Tony, what the _hell_ is going on?” she shouted in to the phone, rubbing a hand over her forehead.

“Well…er…Pep,” another explosion, “we’re pretty busy.”

“Tony! Where are you?”

“Listen, Pep. I can’t talk, we’re like _really_ busy- HOLY CRAP, NATASHA JUST KILLED A GUY WITH HER THIGHS!- Pepper, I got to go, we’ll be back tomorrow morning, I promise.”

Pepper closed her eyes and listed to the sounds of battle via her phone. “Just, _please_ come home, Tony. Be safe, and tell the others to be safe, too.”

“Hey guys!” Tony shouted. “Pepper says to ‘be safe’!”

She smiled to herself. “You call me when you win!” Pepper instructed.

“Sure thing, Pep. Love you.”

“Love you, too.”

The phone went dead and Pepper lay her head back on the couch, taking a deep breath in an attempt to steady her nerves. She opened her eyes slowly and smiled at the vision in front of her.

“Hey, buddy.” She smiled. The dog was sat at her feet, watching her with concern, his head cocked slightly. He shuffled forward and sat on her feet, resting his head on her knees. “Thanks, doggy.” Pepper patted his head and he pressed into her palm. “They’ll be okay.” She assured the dog.

He looked up at her and sneezed, making Pepper laugh.

“Yeah. I agree.” She told him, “They’ll be okay.”

For the rest of the evening, Pepper tried to entertain herself with various activities to take her mind off Tony and the rest of the Avengers. She cleaned every room on the common floor, the dog following her from room to room and sitting watching her from the corner of each one.

She tried watching the TV, the dog jumping up onto the couch next to her, and snuggling himself under her arm, but everything she attempted to watch was just a background noise for her thoughts of Tony and the others. After over an hour of worrying in front of the television, Pepper gave up trying. She sighed heavily and switched off the TV.

The dog sighed too, dropping his head onto her lap.

“Yeah, I know, poochie.” She said, stroking the soft fur of his head. “They’ll be back soon.”

Pepper nudged the dog off her knees and stood up, planning on going back to her and Tony’s floor and trying to get a few hours sleep. She walked over to the elevator and waited for the door to open. The dog followed, sitting and waiting patiently at her feet.

“No, you stay here, doggy.” She said gently, patting his head. “Go on, in your bed. Go on.” Pepper pointed to the dog bed in the corner of the living room, which Clint and Steve had bought at Natasha’s insistence to train him, but the dog ignored her completely and stepped into the elevator as the door slid open. “I guess you’re staying the night with me, huh?” she smiled.

The dog didn’t answer, obviously, but he did lean against her leg as the elevator descended, making Pepper think that perhaps he could understand her.

Both dog and human exited the elevator on Pepper and Tony’s private floor, making a beeline for the master bedroom. Pepper began to get changed from her sweats into her pyjamas and mid-way through removing her shirt glanced at the dog.

“Is this weird?” she asked him. He watched her silently. “Should I change in front of a dog, or is it like changing in front of a baby? Like it doesn’t matter because they can’t judge you?” again, the dog simply looked at Pepper, making no comment. “I think I’m going crazy, doggy.” Pepper shook her head and pulled on one of Tony’s t-shirts, featuring some band she had only vaguely heard of.

Pepper glanced around the room, eyes landing on some throw pillows that Tony must have thrown off the bed at some point after she had left for work. She picked them up and arranged them into a corner of the room, the dog watching her as she worked.

“Okay, puppy. You sleep on here, okay.” Pepper gently guided the dog by his blue collar (something else Clint and Steve had bought for him) over to the makeshift bed. He obeyed and lay down on the pillows. “Good boy.” She smiled, ruffling the fur on his head. “Now, you stay here and I’ll be back in a few minutes.”

Pepper left the dog on the pillows to go into the ensuite to get washed and brush her teeth. On re-entering the bedroom, she sighed, hands on her hips. “Oh, you think you’re sleeping _there_ do you?” she smirked.

The dog, having abandoned the bed Pepper had made for him, had decided he would much rather sleep on Pepper and Tony’s bed. Not only that, but much to her amusement, the dog had chosen to sleep vertically along Tony’s side, his head almost on the pillow. He didn’t bother to look up at her, and made no attempt to move.

“Fine.” Pepper shrugged and walked over to her side of the bed. She climbed in and reached over the dog to switch off the light. “You can stay there, but _only_ for tonight, and only if you promise not to tell Tony.”

He was warm against her side as Pepper settled down for a restless night of worrying about the Avengers. Oddly, her usual anxiety during their absence was nowhere near as crippling as it usually was. The dog snored in his sleep and Pepper had to supress a laugh.

When she closed her eyes, she could almost imagine that the warmth on her thigh was coming from Tony, and that they were all safe, on their own floor, in their own beds. Well, maybe Bruce would be in the lab, and maybe Steve would be in the gym and maybe Natasha and Clint would be doing whatever it was that Natasha and Clint did at two in the morning when they weren’t sleeping, but they would all be safe in the tower.

He snored again and Pepper smiled.

At some point she must have fallen asleep because it was 4:38am when the phone rang, making her sit up in bed jerkily. Pepper scrambled on the bedside table for the phone, only catching a glimpse of Tony’s caller ID as she brought it to her ear.

“Hello?” she answered quickly.

“Heeeeyyyyy, or darling love of mine. Told you I’d call when we _won_!” Tony practically sang from the other end.

“Oh thank God, you’re not dead.” Pepper sank back into the pillows, relief flooding through her.

“Nope, not today. And no one else is dead either! Well, none of our guys, the bad guys are dead, and let me tell you, they _did not_ want to die, I mean it was ‘oh, that one guy is dead, oh look another thirty guys who need to not be alive’, like you have no idea-,”

“Tony.” Pepper interrupted him.

“What?”

“Shut up.”

“Yes ma’am.”

Pepper swore she could hear him saluting. She glanced to her side where the dog still lay in Tony’s spot, though he was now awake and watching her intently. She smiled and petted his head.

“So you’re all okay? All coming home?” Pepper asked, still petting the dog.

“Yeah, well y’know, mostly okay.” He voice was slightly lower than before, the theatricality all but gone. “I’ve got a few bruises, Cap’s fine, just tired, Bruce is exhausted, like always. Hang on, Pep.” He sighed heavily and gave a small cough. “What? Oh, yeah, I’ll tell her,” Tony said to someone Pepper couldn’t hear, “I’ll tell her, for God’s sake, Barton she’s not stupid, I’ll _tell her_.” The phone rustled and Tony’s voice became clearer. “Barton wants me to tell you to feed the dog if we aren’t back by nine, and that he has to be walked _before_ you feed him. Apparently that’s important.”

“Noted.” Pepper laughed. “So you might not be back before nine?” she glanced at the clock again, now reading ‘4:43’.

“Mmm, no.” Tony answered. There was a distant whooshing sound in the background and what Pepper thought could be a plane taking off. “Once we get back to SHIELD Hill says we all need to attend some pointless debrief, and,” his voice lowered again slightly, “Natasha and Barton need to go to medical. They’re fine.” He added quickly, before Pepper could ask. “But they were in the thick of it, and...yeah. You know.” he trailed off.

Pepper didn’t know, and Pepper didn’t ask exactly _what_ they were in the thick of, she didn’t need to know right now. She looked back at the dog and smiled.

“Okay.” She said. “I’m glad you’re all safe. I’m glad you’re safe.”

“Yeah. I love you.” He said.

“I love you too, Tony.”

“Feed the dog.”

“Shut up.”

Pepper could hear Tony’s snicker as she ended the call, holding the phone to her chest. Next to her, the dog moved slightly to press further against her side before settling back down.

“Told you.” She said smugly to him. “Told you they would all be safe.”

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading. I love reviews xxx


	5. The Dog Loves Clint More

When Pepper had brought the dog back to the tower with her almost two weeks ago, she had made it clear, that despite the fact that _she_ was the one who adopted the dog, he was not in fact _her_ dog. She had openly admitted to the team that the adoption had been, not solely fuelled by, but had been motivated predominantly by her anger with Tony on that particular day. She had thought the whole thing through, yes, knowing the tower and the people there would be a better home and family for the dog than the shelter and its staff, but her want to punish Tony had pushed her to seal the deal.

And so, Pepper had made her point clear to the whole team at one point or another in so many words: _“I love this dog, this dog is part of the family, but he is_ not _my dog.”_

When Bruce had asked exactly what she meant by that, Pepper had stated, _“I’m like the dog’s Aunt Pepper, casual carer. I’m_ not _the dog’s mother, primary carer.”_ Natasha had looked as though she was going to be sick at the sentiment that the _dog_ would have a literal family with aunts and uncles and _parents_. Clint had found the whole thing fairly amusing until Tony had referred to him and Natasha as the dog’s ‘Daddy and Mommy’, and Natasha had followed through with a previous threat to give Tony a black eye. The ‘family’ labels had not been used since and Tony had spent the last three days sulking in one of the labs.

Clint smiled to himself as he washed the dishes in his and Natasha’s kitchen on their floor. Nat still insisted that she did not like the dog, and each time Pepper claimed she was not the main carer of the dog, Natasha reminded her that _she_ was the one who had brought the animal into their house. Even if Natasha was less than happy that the dog was not solely Pepper’s responsibility, Clint didn’t mind. He secretly loved the fact that he was one of the dog’s favourite people along with Steve, although as Steve had pointed out the day before, there really wasn’t much competition.

Tony ignored the dog most of the time, avoiding it if he could; Bruce never really seemed to notice the dog’s presence; Pepper wasn’t around all that much; the puppy had never even met Thor yet; and Natasha, well that was a difficult one to discern. Generally, the dog hovered around either Clint or Steve, but it was obvious he had a soft spot for their resident Russian assassin.

Clint snorted as he rinsed a glass. She was predictably less than thrilled at the attention from the pooch.

Speak of the devil. Nat’s voice tore through the tower.

“Barton, your stupid mutt is on the _bed_! _Again_!”

Clint almost winced. _Almost._

Ten years of experience with Natasha Romanoff had led to him becoming slightly desensitised to her constant threats and terrifying shouting. Although he wasn’t afraid to admit that she still did scare him sometimes.

“ _Clint_!” Natasha shouted, irritably.

Perhaps now was one of those times.

“Coming, Tash, oh beautiful partner and lover of mine!” Clint called back, leaving his task of washing their dishes from dinner, and following Natasha’s voice to their bedroom.

As he entered the room, Clint couldn’t help but smirk at what he saw. Natasha was stood on their bed, looking down at the dog (who still did not possess a name), that was now laying on the floor under her. He was watching her with sad brown eyes.

“Bed, for people.” Natasha said loudly, from her position on the bed, bouncing slightly as she spoke, making her slightly less scary, Clint mused. She pointed to the ground. “Floor, for dogs. Get it?” She waited expectantly with one coacked eyebrow.

Clint shook his head, leaning against the doorframe. “Nat, he’s a dog. Of course he doesn’t understand.”

She turned to him with an ‘I am this close to murdering _someone_ ’ look on her face. He didn’t like the thought of being that _someone_ and so kept his mouth shut.

“He _does_ understand,” she insisted, “and he _knows_ he isn’t allowed on the bed because each time I catch him he does this!” Natasha turned back to the dog and her voice low, said, “What did you do?”

The dog dropped his head to the ground, eyes never leaving Natasha. He whined ever so slightly. Clint couldn’t deny, the dog _did_ look guilty in his own doggish way.

“Hmm?” Natasha prompted. “Were you up here, when you weren’t supposed to be?”

Clint felt bad for the dog. Natasha was the best interrogator he’d ever met, and he’d met a fair few in his time, and it appeared she was just as good at getting the truth out of animals, as she was humans.

Clint moved to sit on the bed, next to where Natasha still stood. The fact that the dog’s attention never left her, despite Clint’s distracting movements, proved just how much of an alpha she was to him. Both of them, really. Clint felt a stab of empathy with the dog. He had no doubt that in both his and the dog’s lives, Natasha was the one in charge. Clint smiled. Not that he had a single problem with that.

“Tasha…” Clint said in the high-pitched singsong voice he reserved only for when he was talking to, or about, the dog; the tone that usually earned him a jab to the ribs from his girlfriend. “He doesn’t understand, leave him.” He looked down at the sad eyes the puppy was giving Natasha and felt his chest ache slightly. He was a sucker for puppy-dog eyes.

“You’re pathetic, Barton.” She muttered, a twinkle in her own eyes, though her expression remained stony at the dog.

Clint’s chest ached again. Apparently he was also a sucker for green eyes belonging to a particular human, too.

“And you’re heartless, woman.” Clint replied with the same jest.

Natasha climbed down from the bed, but stood on the floor, still towering over the dog laying on the floor. “You did something wrong.” She said, arms folded, looking at the animal. “Now,” Natasha shot a glance at Clint and turned back to the pup, “say you’re sorry.”

Clint watched as the dog sat up, eyes brighter now, and offered Natasha his paw.

“What the hell?” he said, as Natasha shook the offered paw.

“Apology accepted.” She told the dog, and gave him a forgiving scratch behind his ears. His tail began wagging violently, now that he had been forgiven, and turned some of his attention to Clint.

As he stroked the dog, Clint looked over to Natasha, who sat down next to him, also giving the dog some attention.

“You can add ‘crazy good animal trainer’ to your resume.” He smiled, still in awe of her interaction with the dog she claimed not to be too fond of. Clint was beginning to question that.

Natasha pecked Clint on the cheek and stood, resting her hand on his face. An eyebrow raised, she said, “Who says I haven’t already?” She gave his cheek a gentle slap, green eyes glinting.

With that, Natasha left the room, leaving a stunned Clint and a pining puppy in her wake. Clint looked down at the dog, who was watching the empty doorway. “And that’s why we love her, eh pal?”

The dog looked up to Clint and jumped onto the bed beside him. The puppy barked in agreement. Well, Clint liked to think it was agreement.

“Good doggy.” He cooed, ruffling his facial fur and kissing his muzzle. “Yes,” Clint whispered, “don’t listen to Tasha, she’s mean, huh?”

The dog dropped his head into Clint’s lap, begging for more attention.

“Yeah, Tasha’s just mean. That’s why you love me more. Yes it is. Nat doesn’t want you on the bed, but I’ll let you on the bed. Yes I will, yes I will-,”

Someone cleared their throat behind him and Clint slowly turned to see Natasha watching him from the doorway. He froze and glanced down at the dog who had also noted her presence and was watching her carefully.

Natasha clicked her fingers and pointed to the ground. The dog jumped down immediately and trotted over to her heals.

“You’re a bad influence.” She accused of Clint.

He watched as Natasha flicked a hand up slightly and the dog sat down obediently.

“How do you make him _do_ that?” Clint gaped. She shrugged. “Seriously, Nat. Can you just like, train anything?”

Natasha patted the dog’s head and turned to leave, the dog following. “Well,” she stopped at the door, turning back to Clint, “I trained _you,_ didn’t I?”

Clint watched in silence as the dog followed her from the room. He smiled and shook his head.

“Oh, and Clint,” Natasha popped her head back around the door, grinning, “he loves _me_ more.”

“Fuck you, Romanoff.”

“Fuck you, too!” Clint could hear her laughing as she went down the hall.

“I think you love that dog!” he shouted after her.

“I do not!”

“Do!”

“Not!”

“Do!”

“Not!”

Clint gave in and dropped back onto the bed with a grin. “Whatever, crazy girl. Love you.” He said too quietly for her to hear.

Even if the dog _did_ love her more, he couldn’t blame him. Clint had fallen for her long before the dog ever had, long before she’d managed to ‘train’ him.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys, thanks for reading. Reviews are much appreciated, especially the name speculation ones. I enjoy those ones! Haha. :))


	6. Keeping Natasha Company

It was rare that Natasha was _ever_ left on her own in Avengers Tower for a day at a time, it was unheard of for her to be left alone for three whole days.

Pepper and Tony were in Japan for some conference or other that she had explained to Natasha before they had left, but now thinking back to why her friends had gone half way across the globe, Natasha failed to draw on anything solid. She made a mental note to start making an effort to actually listen and retain the things Pepper told her. She had to at least _try_ to be a half-decent friend.

Bruce was God knows where, doing God knows what, but it had something to do with the stuff Jane Foster was researching. At least that's what Natasha thought.

Thor was still off in Asgard as far as Natasha knew, doing what she imagined was princey Asgardian things like having banquets and eating whole pigs. She should really ask Thor about Asgard the next time he visited. Natasha added ‘showing an interest in Thor’s life’ to her mental lift of things to make an effort in.

As for Steve and Clint, Fury had called them away to the SHIELD base in Paris to kick some shit into the trainers for the new recruits over there. This wasn’t the first time Clint had been called away for the same purpose. Many times both Clint and Natasha had flown to various bases in order to show the trainers how it was _really_ done. Fury liked to say if they could put the fear of God into the trainers, the trainers could go on to do the same to the recruits. Strike Team Delta _always_ succeeded.

Which was why Natasha had been so pissed off when Fury had called in Cap and Clint instead of the traditional team.

“Romanoff, you’re still not cleared for duty.” Hill explained over the phone for the fourth time in the last three days.

Natasha huffed and dropped down onto her place on the couch. She clicked her fingers and pointed to the ground and the dog jumped down from the sofa obediently.

“I’m _fine_.” Natasha insisted irately to her superior.

“You got _shot_. You know that’s at least an automatic three week leave.” Hill sighed heavily.

“It was a _graze_.” She insisted, absent-mindedly rubbing the dog’s belly with her foot. “ _I_ could have gone with him.”

“Romanoff, I don’t even know why we’re having this conversation right now. They’ll be back tomorrow, anyway.” Agent Hill mumbled something Natasha couldn’t make out to someone at her end of the phone “I’ve got to go. Stop calling me, Natasha.” And with that, she hung up on the Russian.

Natasha dropped the phone onto the cushion next to her and grabbed a pillow from the other side. Frustrated at being confined to the tower, she screamed into the fabric.

The dog watched her, concerned and Natasha suddenly felt guilty for worrying him. She replaced the pillow on the couch and leaned down to pet the dog. He leaned into her hand and gave her palm a gentle lick.

“Sorry.” She said quietly to the animal. “I didn’t mean to scare you, I’m fine.” Natasha assured him.

He gave he hand another lick.

“It’s just, I don’t know.” She sighed heavily and scooted down onto the floor beside the dog, he laid his head in her lap, looking up at her as she stroked his ears. “You get one little scratch to the thigh and they’re writing you off for almost a month.” Natasha ran her fingers over her sweatpants and felt the outline of the dressings still present. It didn’t hurt much now; it had been over a week since that mission when they had left so quickly, she hadn’t even had time to finish her coffee…

The dog nudged her hand with his nose and Natasha stopped dwelling on her wound and instead focused on him.

“It’s like you know, huh?” he watched her as she spoke. “You know when I’m sad.” Natasha surprised herself with that revelation. She had never even considered that she was _sad_ , just that she was angry at being left behind. “I guess I am a little sad.” She said quietly. “But,” Natasha smiled brightly and ruffled the dog’s fur with both hands, “Clint’s coming back tomorrow.”

At the mention of Clint’s name, the dog seemed to perk up. His ears pricked and he automatically looked towards the elevators. Natasha bend her head down and pressed a kiss to the dog’s head, something she _certainly_ wouldn’t be doing in the presence of the others.

“I know, bud, I miss him, too.”

After a few minutes of Clint _not_ entering through the elevator doors, the dog seemed to lose his enthusiasm and his head fell back into Natasha’s lap.

“This is ridiculous. Look at us sulking.” He looked up at Natasha as she spoke. “We need to get our shit together. Suck it up, y’know?” She waited for an answer from the dog. He seemed to sense this and gave her thumb a lick. “Damn straight.”

Natasha nudged the dog off her and stood up, putting her phone into her pocket. He followed suit and padded after her into the elevator. The two waited amicably in the elevator until the doors opened onto Clint and Natasha’s floor.

The dog followed Natasha into the living room, watching as she began pulling on a pair of plimsolls. At this action, he began to get excited, running back and forth between her and the cabinet in the kitchen where Clint had stowed all the ‘dog’ things. Natasha laughed as she did up her laces.

“You know, don’t you?” she smiled.

He barked at her as she stood and stayed close to her heals as she walked to the kitchen.

“You know we’re going for a _walk_.” Just the sheer mention of the word had the dog acting crazy. He ran around her legs and bounded forward to the cabinet.

“You’d think I didn’t just take you out this morning.” Natasha shook her head. “So, where’s your leash?” she asked the dog. He scratched at the bottom corner of the cabinet. “Where? In here.” He barked as she opened the door and took out the extendable leash that she insisted stayed on their floor after Clint spent over half an hour trying to locate a leader for the dog in the seventy-floor tower. There was now a leash to be found somewhere in practically everyone’s floor.

Natasha took out the lead and clipped it onto the dog’s collar, stuffing some little black bags and a handful of treats into her sweatpants’ pocket.

“Come on then, doggy.” Natasha smiled.

It was a nice day, so Natasha took her time walking to the park, consciously attempting to kill some time before Clint’s return the next day. It was disconcerting that she couldn’t go three days on her own without getting lonely. Well, she couldn’t go three days in the tower, it was entirely different when she was in the field, perhaps because she always had something to keep her busy and a certain archer was usually at the other end of her comm.

On arriving at the dog park, Natasha was surprised to find it almost deserted, apart from one elderly man sitting on a bench with a small terrier sniffing around his feet, and a teenage boy slouched against the gate, far more interested in the screen of his phone than in the two border collies bounding around the field. She glanced at her watch as she strode across to the far end of the field where an empty bench beckoned.

2:07pm, the digital screen relayed. Two in the afternoon on a Wednesday; most people out at work, Natasha suspected.

“Everyone out at work but me.” She muttered, sitting down on the cool metal of the bench seat.

The dog waited by her feet for her to unfasten the leash, but when Natasha unclipped it, he simply sat down and looked up at her.

“What?” she asked of the dog. “Go on, run around with the other dogs.” He continued to sit quietly at her feet. “Go pee on some bushes and sniff some dog-butts. Go. Do dog things.”

When the dog still failed to move Natasha sighed and stood up. “I can’t believe I bummed you out so much that you won’t even sniff some butts.”

She walked across the grass, dog following, to where a discarded tennis ball lay in the dirt. Natasha bent to pick up the object and screwed her face up in disgust at the feeling. The ball, once bright green, she assumed, was now a dirty yellow, and was wet…

“This better be slobber and not…” Natasha gave the dog a poignant look, “…y’know, the _other_ wet thing. Okay, you ready?” her voice rose a few octaves and she passed the ball from hand to hand in order to psyche up the dog. It seemed to work as he began backing away from her, jumping onto his hind legs, eyes remaining on the tennis ball.

“You want this? Huh? You want the ball? Go fetch the ball!” Natasha pitched the ball across the field and the dog chased after it, stopping it rolling with a paw and picking it up in his mouth. He bounded back to Natasha, dropping the item at her feet and barking.

She smiled and picked up the damp ball, grimacing again. “The things I do for you.” Natasha muttered, throwing it in the opposite direction.

And so it went that for the next ten minutes Natasha threw the ball, and the dog brought it back, only to drop it expectantly at her feet, and for the whole process to repeat itself. Eventually she managed to make it back to her seat on the metal bench while the dog searched for the ball in the bushes. She took the opportunity to check her phone.

No messages. Not that she was expecting any, if today was Steve and Clint’s last day helping the trainers they would be too busy to call. Natasha slipped her phone back into her pocket and looked over to where the dog was chasing backwards and forwards with one of the border collies, the ball game apparently abandoned.

Since he was occupied with his new friend, Natasha fell back into her own thoughts. Her fingers found the outline of the dressings on her thigh and she sighed heavily, head tipping to look at the sky. It would be almost another two weeks before she could even _try_ to get approval to go out into the field. What the hell was she going to do for two weeks?

Three days on her own and Natasha was going insane. Though, she smirked to herself, the dog was getting more well trained, the more her boredom set in, so that was a plus. Not that she’d ever admit it to any of the others, but she hadn’t _hated_ having the pup around to keep her company.

Natasha shuddered. She was going soft.

“Get you’re shit together, Nat.” she said to herself, closing her eyes on the sky.

Her training meant that she sensed the dog coming up to her before he even barked. “What’s up, pup?” Natasha asked, eyes still closed. “You fetch that ball back, yet?”

“Not quite.” A voice said, and Natasha sat up quickly and opened her eyes.

Clint grinned at her, petting the dog on the head. “Don’t tell me I _actually_ managed to startle the Black Widow.” He laughed.

“What- no! I wasn’t _startled_ I was just…”

“Scared shitless?” he supplied and she kicked him in the shin. “Fuck, Tash! _Ow!_ ”

“ _No_ , I was just a little surprised. I thought you weren’t coming back until tomorrow?”

Clint sat down next to her on the bench and rubbed his injured shin. “Yeah, well. I thought Cap could handle it.” He wrapped an arm around Natasha’s waist and pulled her closer to him, kissing her cheek. “I missed you.” He mumbled into her hair.

Natasha gripped his shirt and pressed her lips to the soft fabric. “Me too. How’d you know we were here?”

“The art of deduction.” He smirked.

“Oh really?” Natasha raised an eyebrow.

“Yep, well, that and I looked at the tracker in your phone.” He admitted, pressing a kiss to the top of her head.

“Hmm, that’s what I thought.” She smiled.

Clint leaned down to kiss her deeply on the mouth, taking full advantage of the almost empty park, and the lack of people who knew their identities. He moved a hand to her inner thigh, rubbing a thumb over the dressings.

Natasha’s movements stilled and Clint raised an eyebrow questioningly. She pulled away slightly and flicked her eyes downwards.

“We’re being watched.” She smirked.

Clint glanced in the same direction to see the dog staring at the two of them, head cocked to the side.

“Hey, you’ve had my girl all to yourself for three days, no-name. Gimmie five minutes.” Clint pushed the dog’s face away playfully.

In retaliation, the dog dropped the soggy ball onto Natasha’s lap. She picked it up and launched it into the bushes on the other side of the park.

“That should keep him busy for a few minutes.” She smiled, reinitiating the kiss.

“I think you love that dog, Nat.” Clint mumbled into her lips.

“Whatever.” She muttered back.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Review are ALWAYS loved and cherished and nurtured and…well, I read them and enjoy them. Thanks for reading, guys!
> 
> xxx


	7. Thor is Terrified of Tiny Wolves

When Thor arrived at Avengers Tower in New York, with the Lady Jane in tow, the last thing he had expected was to be greeted on the common floor by a small, tan-coloured wolf. The wolf bounded over to he and Jane as soon as the elevator doors opened, and Thor instinctively stepped in front of his companion. Jane did not seem in the least bit wary of the wolf, as he was, awkwardly ducking under his arm to get around him and see the beast.

“Hey there.” Jane said in a high-pitched voice, Thor had never heard her use before. She reached out to touch the wolf, but Thor lunged forward and pulled her back.

“Jane, do be wary of the wolf.” Jane looked up at him sceptically. “It may be a small wolf, but they do not wish to be touched by strangers.”

“Thor, it’s just a d-,” she started.

A whistle sounded from around the corner.

“Hey, dog, where you at?” Thor identified the voice of the archer, Barton calling.

The wolf cocked its head at Thor and Jane, before trotting off in the direction of the voice.

“Come, Jane.” Thor said warily, releasing her body only to take her hand. “We must follow the wolf, it will lead us to its masters.” He followed the retreating form of the wolf, into the living room of the tower.

The wolf did in fact lead Jane and Thor to his masters. The five Avenger inhabitants of the tower lounged around the room, all looking up at the new arrivals as the wolf barked.

“Oh, hey guys!”

“Hi, guys.”

“What’s up?”

“Good to see you.”

“Come on in!”

The Avengers greeted them warmly. The wolf barked again.

“The wolf announces our presence.” Thor said quietly for Thor, but loud enough for everyone in the room to hear.

“The prodigal God has returned!” The Iron Man stood up, currently void of his armour, and walked over to Thor and Jane. He shook Jane’s hand enthusiastically, completely ignoring the wolf hovering around his feet. “Very good to meet you, Doctor Foster. Bruce and I have been following your research closely.”

“Oh, really, thank you very-,” Stark cut her off.

“Isn’t that right, Banner?” he tossed over his shoulder.

Doctor Banner made his way over to the small group, stepping over the archer and Lady Natasha’s legs where they sat on the floor watching them.

“Yeah, that’s right. Thrilled to meet you, Doctor Foster.” Doctor Banner smiled warmly at them and shook Jane’s hand, before turning to Thor. “Great to see you again, Thor.”

“And you, Doctor.” Thor answered politely, trying desperately to keep his eyes on his teammates, rather than on the wolf who was sniffing dangerously close to his feet. The wolf moved closer towards him, and Thor involuntarily squeaked and took a step back.

Lady Jane looked over to him with a smirk and Thor coughed in an attempt to cover the unwanted noise. This apparently did not to unnoticed by Stark and Doctor Banner who exchanged a subtle look, which Thor pretended not to notice.

“Hey, Barton, control your mutt.” Tony called to the archer. The wolf looked up to Stark. “Thor’s scared of it.”

Thor squared his shoulders and watched as the Doctor and Stark led Jane over to the couches and the other Avengers.

“I am not _fearful_ of the wolf, simply…” he took a moment to search for the correct word.

“Terrified of the cute, fluffy doggy.” Stark smiled and sat down next to Doctor Banner, Jane taking a seat on the chair with the Captain.

“So you admit he’s cute?” Barton asked, nudging Lady Natasha. She smirked and glanced over to Thor.

Stark huffed and looked away. “I didn’t mean it like _that_.” He mumbled.

Jane laughed. The Avengers began introducing themselves to Lady Jane, engaging in some idle conversation.

Thor watched the whole exchange between his team and Lady Jane, still standing away from the group. He eyed the wolf at his feet.

“Guys, I think he really is scared of the dog.” Lady Natasha mused from her position next to the archer on the floor.

“The wolf, the archer is its master?” Thor asked, backing into the wall as the animal moved closer.

“Thor, it’s just a dog. It’s not going to hurt you.” Jane smiled. “Right?” she looked to Doctor Banner and then to the Captain, but it was Stark who answered.

“I cannot believe that the demigod who fought a race of alien robot things and who grew up with a psycho demigod brother is scared of a puppy.”

“I am _not_ fearful of the wolf, I am appropriately wary.” Thor defended. “Archer, please call off your animal.”

Archer Barton sat up slightly and whistled. “C’mere, dog. You’re scaring the God of thunder.”

The wolf failed to move away, instead sniffing Thor’s hand. He ripped it away from the animal’s mouth quickly.

“идите сюда” Lady Natasha said, and the wolf immediately retreated over to her, sitting by her hip, leaving Thor to slump slightly in relief against the wall.

“I see.” He said, recovering his composure and making his way over to Lady Jane. “Lady Natasha is the wolf’s master. She is the alpha.”

Natasha smiled at him. “Yep, I’m the alpha.” She addressed the rest of the group. “You may all treat me as such.”

Archer Barton shook his head. “Believe me, Nat, we all knew a _long_ time ago that you were in charge.” Stark snorted. “Well, at least _I_ did.”

“Hey, Thor, come sit down.” The Captain moved along on the sofa, making room for him to sit next to Jane.

“Thank you, Captain Rogers.” He said, sitting down, keeping his distance from the wolf.

“You know, Thor, he’s really quite friendly.” The Captain beckoned over the wolf and the creature obliged, leaving Lady Natasha’s side to sit at the Captain’s feet. Thor stiffened visibly and Jane placed a hand on his thigh. “Don’t you have dogs in Asgard?” Rogers asked.

Thor kept his eyes on the animal. “Forgive me for my wariness, friends. In Asgard, wolves are generally wild and free-roaming animals. It is not common to find them...domesticated.”

“Well this wolf,” Steve, petted the animal, “is more of a _dog_ , like a smaller, friendlier wolf.”

“I understand.” Thor relaxed slightly as the threat dissipated, but did not take his eyes off the _dog_. “My father, he possessed two wolves of his own.”

“Domesticated wolves? Cool.” The archer commented.

“Not quite, archer. My father’s wolves were only loyal to him.” Thor explained. The dog flopped onto it’s back, tongue lolling out of its mouth. He had to admit it appeared significantly less threatening than his father’s wolves. “They were vicious and greedy, and followed him everywhere. They would not hesitate to attack anyone who approached my father, even my brother and I.”

“Thor, I can assure you _that_ ,” Doctor Banner gestured towards the dog, “won’t attack you.”

“I mean it might if Spidey tells it to.” Stark muttered.

“He’s kidding.” Jane assured Thor.

Thor looked down at the dog, then turned to Lady Natasha and Barton. “He has a name?”

“Actually, no.” the Captain said.

“Do not all domesticated animals have names?” Thor looked around at the group. “Even my father’s wolves had names. Geri and Freki.”

“We’re not calling him either of those names.” Lady Natasha said.

“The stupid mutt needs a name.” Stark said. “We’ve had him almost a month and it’s starting to answer to ‘Hey you!’” As if to demonstrate this, the dog jumped up and trotted over to Tony. He ushered it away. “Go, leave me alone. Sit with your overlords.” The dog obliged by going and sitting by Barton and Lady Natasha’s feet.

“So,” the Captain said, starting a new conversation, “you weren’t big on pets in Asgard?”

“Oh, we had many animals, but most were owned for their uses. Practical animals. When we were younger, my brother and I had our own, as you call them, pets. In fact, we still do. I myself have Tanngniost and Tanngrisnir, my goats.”

Jane raised her brows. “You have pet goats?”

“Is this an odd animal to possess in Midgard?”

“Kind of, if you don’t, y’know, live on a farm.” Barton answered. “Goats, really?”

“Yes” Thor said seriously. “They pull my chariot.”

“Of course they do.” Stark smiled. “Chariot-pulling goats. What did psycho-bro have? Magical flying pot-bellied pigs?”

Thor’s brow furrowed. “No, Man of Iron. My brother had a certain… _fondness_ , I suppose, for horses.” He coughed. “Though some may consider his relationship with them unhealthy.”

Jane screwed her face up. “I don’t think I want to know.”

“You do not, Lady Jane.” Thor assured her. “If I am perfectly honest, as a youngster I was always more fond of Asgard’s wilder animals. Some were very gentle. Many an evening I spent hours visiting Yggdrasil when my father allowed, and watched as Dain ate the leaves.”

“Dain?” Lady Natasha asked.

“The deer. Such a creature fascinated me. Dain was quiet and secluded in his place between the nine realms. “

“Huh.” Stark shrugged and stood up, earning the attention of the dog. “Now that we’ve heard all about the zoological aspects of Asgard, anyone up for doing something less boring.”

“The dog needs to be walked. We could take him out?” Barton suggested.

“I said _less_ boring, Barton.”

“Come on, Tony. We need to show Thor that he’s not scary.” Rogers stood too. “Hey, puppy, wanna go to the park?” the dog’s ears pricked up.

“Who want’s to go to the park? _Park_? Yes you do, yes you do.” Barton said in a very similar way to how Jane had spoken to the dog earlier, and ruffled the fur of the animal.

“Clint.” Lady Natasha said, “Stop with the voice.”

“Come on.” He whispered into her ear. Thor looked away as the others began standing and preparing for their trip out, but he caught when the archer said to the Lady. “You think I don’t hear you talking to him like that when you think I’m still asleep?”

Thor glanced over at the pair and noticed a tinge of pink in the Widow’s cheeks.

“Hey, Legolas, Spidey. It’s your dog, come on.” All traces of her blush was gone by the time Stark spoke.

“He’s _everyone’s_ dog.” Lady Natasha muttered, standing up. Her voice dropped so low that Thor was sure only Barton was meant to hear her. “He just loves _us_ the most.” The archer and the Widow shared a smile before following the others. Thor smiled at their camaraderie.

Xxxxxxxxx

Thor recognised the park they walked to as the place where he had been escorted to take Loki back to Asgard, though the area was significantly larger than he had at the time realised and the group did not walk in the direction of their last encounter. He was not sure whether this was a conscious thought by the Iron Man, who led the way with Lady Jane and Doctor Banner, or whether it was simply coincidence. Either way he was grateful not to resurface those memories too much.

“So, you used to _eat_ your pet goats?” Barton asked. The archer and the Widow walked side-by-side on Thor’s left, the Captain and the dog on his right. Unlike his father’s wolves, the dog was attached to Captain Rogers with a length of rope.

“You make it sound harsher than it was, archer.” Thor laughed at the look on his face.

“Call me Clint.” The archer smiled, but the look of horror quickly returned. “But the goats were your pets and you _ate_ them.”

“You are forgetting, friend Clint, that I was able to resurrect them at will. When away from home with very little resources, one is grateful for what one can get.” He looked around at his friends. “All three of you must have been in similar situations of hunger yourselves?”

Lady Natasha’s face hardened and the Captain nodded slightly.

“Well yeah,” Clint said, “but I’m not sure I could eat my _pet._ I guess, maybe if it was a goat…”

Thor stopped attempting to explain his relationship with his goats to Clint and instead looked back towards the dog. For the most part it trotted beside the Captain obediently, looking ahead to check that the Iron Man and two doctors were still leading the way, but every so often it thrust its head into the bushes at the edge of the path and Rodgers had to pull on the rope slightly to get it to continue walking.

“I must ask, Captain, why does the small wolf have such an interest in the foliage?”

The Captain looked down at the dog. “I’m not sure, I guess it’s just a dog thing.”

“Actually,” Lady Natasha said, “that could be our fault.” She indicated the archer.

“When we’re in the dog park we’ve been throwing the ball into the bushes for him to fetch.” Clint explained.

“Why in the bushes?” the Captain asked.

“Reasons.” Clint smirked and nudged Lady Natasha. She rolled her eyes.

Thor smiled at the dog, its head back in the bushes. The Captain pulled on the rope and the dog emerged, a leafy twig hanging out of his mouth. Thor’s laughter boomed, causing the three people in front of them to halt their scientific conversation and look around.

“Is the mutt eating _leaves_?” Stark asked. “It really is stupid.”

“This animal is very much like Dain.” Thor grinned.

“The deer?” Lady Natasha asked.

“Yes, Dain too was known for eating leaves.” The dog barked and the twig fell from his mouth. Thor laughed again. “I am fond of this miniature wolf, friends. He entertains me, as did Dain when I was a child.”

They began walking again, this time having conversations as a single group, the scientific discussions left behind for another time. At some point the Captain had handed the rope attached to the dog to Lady Natasha, before running off to help some children retrieve their flying disc from a tree. Even when he returned, she kept the rope.

For a while no one spoke, just enjoying the company, but then Lady Natasha said something unexpected.

“I like Dain.”

“Huh?” Clint questioned.

“Thor’s idea.” She explained. “I like Dain, for the dog’s name.”

“Lady Natasha, I did not intended to suggest a name for your dog-,”

“But you think he suits it?” she asked.

Thor looked at the dog. “Dain.” He said and the dog looked towards him. “I do.”

“He likes it!” Clint grinned.

“I think it’s great. Dain the dog.” The Captain agreed.

“Have we found a name Spidey actually approves of?” Stark asked incredulously.

“Lady Natasha, do you wish to name your small wolf after the deer Dain?” Thor smiled.

Lady Natasha shrugged. “Maybe. What do you think?” She asked the dog. He looked at her blankly. “Dain? Это твое имя?” The dog barked. “I guess we have a name.”

“Well thank God for that-literally!” Stark jabbed a thumb in Thor’s direction. “I’ll inform Pepper.” He pulled a small device out of his pocket and began tapping away at it.

“Did I just name the Avengers’ domesticated pet?” Thor asked Lady Jane.

She took his hand and pulled him after the others who were fussing over the newly named ‘Dain’. “Yeah, I think you did.”

As they caught up with the others, Thor heard Doctor Banner say, “You know, I’m still kind of mad you vetoed ‘Kevlar’ so quickly.”

Clint slapped him on the shoulder and laughed. “No you’re not.”

Doctor Banner shrugged. “Yeah, you’re right. On the list of things I care about, that dog’s name is like one below the price of goats’ milk in the Ukraine, and one above whether they bring back Frosted Grape Pop Tarts.”

Thor lunged forward in between Clint and Banner, dragging Jane with him. “I care about the welfare of the Pop Tart!” he informed the group.

They all stopped walking and looked at him curiously.

Stark’s device beeped and he glanced down at it.

“Well done, Goldilocks. Dain is approved all round.” Iron Man congratulated him. “How come we spent like a month with the dog and not one of us could come up with a name we all approved of, and Thundercat is here for less than an hour and christens the mutt?”

Doctor Banner turned to the Iron Man. “Because he didn’t suggest ‘Colin’.”

Thor smirked. “That is indeed a injudicious name for the miniature wolf.”

Tony Stark huffed.

“I hate you all.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So he has a name!!!! Yay! Dain the dog, straight out of the norse mythology. 
> 
> As always, reviews are very much welcomed. I love reading them! xxx


	8. It's Following Tony

Tony Stark had begun the day happy. He had woken up to the love of his life handing him a cup of coffee, giving him a kiss on the lips and telling him that she loved him. At that point, he was happy.

He sipped his coffee in bed, his tablet rested on his bent knees as he took his time sifting through a combination of news, emails and research for various projects he would _eventually_ get back to. The day was beginning all too well. Then Pepper walked back into the bedroom with a furry shadow and her bag on her shoulder.

“Okay I’m going to work. I’ll be back by six and Tony…Tony are you listening to me?” she asked and Tony made the effort to look up at her.

“I’m listening.” He assured her.

“Okay, Tony, I’m not going to be back until six so make sure you feed and walk Dain.”

Tony Stark was no longer happy.

“But Pep, I don’t _want_ to look after the dog!” the billionaire whined. The dog in question sat obediently by Pepper’s feet.

“Well I’m sorry, Tony but there is no one else here so you have to.” Pepper secured the bag on her shoulder and bent over to kiss him on the forehead. She straightened up and stood by the bedroom door. “ _Please_ remember to feed and walk the dog, Tony.”

“Fine.” He grumbled, looking back at the tablet.

“Thank you. I’ll see you tonight, bye.”

Tony listened to the sound of Pepper leaving; a faint jingling of a collar indicating the dog was following her. The sound of the elevator doors opening and closing came and went, and the dog reappeared at the bedroom door, now watching Tony.

“Urg.” Tony moaned. “You better not be a pest and follow me around all day.”

Xxxxxxxx

It was following him.

It had followed him _all morning_.

Wherever Tony went, the stupid dog seemed to be only four steps behind him.

  * Shower: it stared at him through the glass.
  * Getting dressed: it watched him put on his underwear.
  * Eating breakfast: it lay at his feet as he buttered his toast then begged for scraps of his bacon.



He was so done.

“Go _away_.” Tony said, crouching down so that he could say it right in the dog’s face. The dog predictably failed to move. He never listened to a thing Tony said to him anyway, and most of the time he simply ignored the billionaire in favour of the tower’s other tenants. Today however, Tony was the only one there, which meant that for the past hour and a half, since Pepper had gone to work, he had been trailed by the dog.

“What do you want from me?!” Tony cried, falling to his knees.

The dog failed to answer but _did_ dart its tongue out to lick his nose.

“Ew, ew ,ew!” He cried, pulling the sleeve of his shirt over his hand and rubbing away the dog saliva. “God! Why are you so…doggish?!”

Tony stood up and went back to wandering around his empty floor in a huff. “I don’t know what’s wrong with you, you stupid mutt.” He muttered to himself. That wasn’t strictly true. He knew _exactly_ what was the matter with the dog, but given it was something his seemingly infinite wealth could not currently fix, he decided to sulk.

Thor was off somewhere with Jane Foster, probably bothering her while she was attempting to do something productive. Perhaps Vancouver? Tony wasn’t sure. Thor’s absence meant that the dog no longer had someone with whom he could wrestle and play roughly. After overcoming his initial fear of the dog, Thor began play with him almost at every demand the dog gave him. It was great, Tony thought, because no one else would play with him in the same way, _and_ it tired out both God of Thunder and pup.

Steve was on the SHIELD hellicarrier doing some sort of mandatory training session that lasted six days. He’d been gone three of the six when Natasha and Barton had been called out by Fury in the middle of the night to take down some weapons dealer in Marrakesh. Technically, Tony was not meant to know about that, but he’d been hacking the SHIELD files of his friends’ for months and no one had ever said anything to him yet. Plus, this would be Romanoff’s first mission out since being shot in the thigh and although he _knew_ she was completely fine (she made sure Tony had known she was fine via a swift kick to the back of the knee when he had questioned her about it), he still liked to check on his teammates.

When the assassin twins had took off, the dog had glued himself to Pepper’s side, even attempting to climb into bed with them. That is where Tony had drawn the line. Literally. He had drawn a line in duct tape, separating the bedrooms from the living area of their floor and declared the dog was not allowed to cross said line. Pepper had slapped him hard on the back of the head, but then she had buggered off to work and the mutt had started pining again.

At this point, Tony had half-dragged, half-bribed with potato chips, the dog down to where Bruce was working and had deposited it on one of its beds, the one which remained permanently in the corner of the lab. It wasn’t somewhere the dog went often, too many chemicals and too much risk, but Tony had insisted and Bruce had just shrugged and dog had stayed.

That had worked to keep the dog away from Tony for all of 36 hours, until yesterday evening when Bruce had dropped the dog off on his and Pepper’s floor, claiming he was off to MIT for a week or so to help an old colleague of his with some research. _Then_ Pepper had gone to work this morning, and _that_ was when the dog began following him around like a, well, puppy.

When Tony sat down on the sofa in the common area, the dog having followed him all the way down there, he watched as the animal jumped up on the sofa beside him and lay down.

“No!” Tony said firmly, attempting to emulate the way Romanoff reprimanded the dog. “Down!” the dog watched him but made no attempt to move. “Off! Heal! Sit!” he kept trying, and failing. “Lie down! Wait, no I mean on the floor! Lie down on the floor! Come on, dog, I’m pulling this shit out of my ass, here.” The dog continued to watch the man beside him. “I guess you can tell, huh?”

Giving up, Tony relaxed into the sofa and absentmindedly stroked the fur of the dog with the hand closest to him. “I’m sorry I’m not very good company, Dain.” The name still felt a bit foreign to Tony, having referred to the dog as ‘thing’, ‘mutt’ and various profanities for the most part. “I do try, you know.” He said, looking down at the dog.

“But I’m just not a _pet_ person. I mean don’t take it personally, if you were a cat or a gerbil or a racing horse, I would still harbour this cold disposition towards you because that’s who I am. I don’t hate you, I don’t love you. Would I cry if you died? Probably not. Would a small part of me be thrilled that I never had to walk you again? Sure. But,” he stilled his hand and looked directly into the Dain’s brown eyes, “it would be a part of me I would not be proud of. And _that’s_ what counts.”

Dain appeared unaffected by Tony’s words, though his eyes remained on the billionaire, as he repositioned himself, feet resting on the coffee table.

“Anyway, Steve’s going to be back today.” Tony turned back to the dog and fished his phone out of his pocket. “You know Steve?” Dain’s ears pricked slightly but he didn’t sit up. “Steve. Dresses like everyone’s grandfather, was frozen for 70 years in the Antarctic, really ambiguous sexuality. Yeah, you know the guy.”

Tony flicked through his camera on the phone until he came across an image of Steve, candidly taken while sprawled out on the couch asleep with a hand down his pants. He showed Dain the photo. “Ignore the hand,” he looked at the dog and shrugged, “we all do it.” Tony flicked through some more of his images, most of them embarrassing pictures of his team to be used for blackmail at a later date. Something occurred to him.

“Hey, pup, you aren’t in the Stark family album yet.” He said and twisted on the couch to get the best angle. He held up the phone in front of the dog. “Smile, Dain.” He clicked the screen and smiled at the image of the dog looking back to him. “Not gonna lie, that’s pretty cute even by my standards.”

Dain flopped onto his back as Tony began rubbing his belly affectionately.

“I guess you’re growing on me, mutt.” He murmured. “Don’t you dare tell Barton about this.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: So, even Tony is warming up to the new addition….but what about the rest of SHIELD, hmmm??
> 
> Review please! I Love to read them! xxx


	9. Fury Hates Everyone

Admittedly they could have left the dog at home. Pepper had offered to stay home from work so that the Avengers could all go to the meeting at SHIELD HQ, and Dain would not be left to his own devices in the tower all day. Thor had made the mistake of leaving Dain with free run of the tower when they _were_ all in, and that had ended with one of Clint’s arrows chewed to uselessness and Steve’s shield being missing for an hour and a half.

Pepper had insisted it was no problem for her to work from home for one day, but as Tony had pointed out, that would not have been nearly as fun.

The fact that the group of superheroes had all failed to mention that the Avengers had acquired a pet several months ago, made the temptation to take Dain on a surprise visit to the international organisation, all the more enticing. At least for Tony.

“He’s going to go ape.” Clint said, as he watched Dain trot obediently behind Natasha as she walked down towards the tower’s garage.

“And yet, you’re not stopping me.” Tony observed from Clint’s side.

“God no.” He answered. “I said Fury was going to go ape, I never said I didn’t want to see it happen.”

Without turning to look at them, Natasha said, “How awesome would it be if we got him to go ‘April Fools ‘04’?”

Clint sighed is delight. “So freaking awesome.”

Tony’s brow creased. “What happened April Fools ’04?”

Natasha stopped at the end of the hallway and turned to the boys. She flicked her wrist and Dain sat down. “Clint made Fury so mad-,”

“-Hey it was you too!” He reminded.

“Clint and _I,_ ” she corrected, _“_ but it was mostly Clint, made Fury so mad,” She was grinning manically, and Clint began mirroring her expression, “that Fury locked himself in his office…” she trained off and Clint picked up the story.

“…and rumour has it he _actually cried_.” Clint’s grin remained plastered to his face, as disbelief overtook Tony’s.

“No way.” He protested.

“Oh yeah.” Natasha said.

“It was almost the best day of my life.” The archer reminisced. As he thought, his face twisted into a grimace. “April second…not so much.”

They began walking again, Dain following Natasha as soon she began leading the way down the stairs.

Tony nudged Clint to get his attention. “What happened April second?” he asked.

Natasha looked at them over her shoulder, smirking. “He got caught.”

xxxxxxxx

“Are you fucking kidding me?!” Fury growled at the Avengers as they sat around the SHIELD boardroom table.

_Oh, yes._ Tony thought to himself. _This is much more fun._

Fury, fuming, looked around his meeting room, at each of the Avengers, purposely avoiding looking at the _animal_ sitting in the centre of the glass desk.

Natasha sat arms folded, slouching in her chair, feet resting on Barton’s lap with an eyebrow raised. Challenging. _Daring_ the director to say something to her.

Barton was failing to conceal a shit-eating grin, Fury would have just loved to smack off his face. He hadn’t forgiven him yet for ‘April Fools ‘04’. It didn’t go unnoticed by the director that Barton’s hands rested on Natasha’s shins.

Banner looked unconcerned, more involved with the papers he was studying in front of him than with the animal and Fury’s death-glare.

Thor looked towards the Captain, seeming slightly concerned and confused. He glanced at the Director and it became blaringly obvious to the man that Thor was _not_ to blame for this ridiculousness.

Rodgers _looked_ guilty and shrugged at his senior, but his eyes darted to Stark involuntarily, giving Fury all the proof he needed to blame all of this on Stark.

Sensing eyes burrowing into his skull, Stark looked up from his phone and winked at Fury.

“Stark, is this you?!” Fury hissed, indicating the dog.

“Sir, is your _eye_ okay?” Tony smirked, sitting up slightly straighter. “Because _that_ there, is a dog.”

“Don’t you mess with me, Stark. I _do not_ have time for this!” Fury glared at the billionaire.

Behind him, the boardroom door opened, and Maria Hill stepped inside. Without looking up from a beige file in her hands, she closed the door and expertly moved around the room to the Director’s side.

“Sir, we need-,” she looked up and stopped mid-sentence. “Is that a dog?” she asked, looking to Natasha and Barton for an answer.

“See, _she_ gets it.” Stark grinned.

“Stark, I swear to God…” Fury threatened.

“Come on, its just a _dog_.” Tony shrugged.

“And its _ass_ is on my boardroom _table_!” The Director growled loudly enough that Dain the dog jumped in surprise.

The dog, frightened by Fury’s outburst, skittered over the glass table towards Natasha and Clint, unceremoniously falling onto Natasha’s out stretched legs. The assassin hissed something in her native tongue, and the dog jumped down and lay at Clint’s feet.

“At least it’s well trained.” Maria noted.

“Only if you’re Nat.” Bruce smirked, still not looking up from his notes.

“He’s a good dog, Director.” Clint defended, reaching down to scratch the mutt between its ears. “He’ll just lay there.”

“Not the point, Barton.” Fury grumbled. “I still have no answer as to _why_ that thing is even here.”

“We _had_ to bring him!” Tony flung his arms out dramatically and Natasha made no effort to conceal her eyes rolling. “It was _you_ who wanted all of us here _all_ day. We couldn’t leave him alone for that long.”

“Why not?” Fury argued.

“That would be animal cruelty, Director.” Stark declared. “Are you saying SHIELD is an advocate for animal cruelty? Because quite frankly, I don’t think I want to work for an organisation that encourages cruelty to animals.” He stood up with a flourish and knocked Bruce’s papers onto the floor.

Bruce looked to his friend and sighed heavily. “Tony….” He barely reprimanded, bending down to collect his work.

“I am leaving! I am calling the ASPCA and I defy anyone who stays! Who’s with me?!” Tony held an arm in the air, awaiting an answer. “Dain?” The dog barely lifted its head at the sound of his name. “No?” When no one made an effort to move, he lowered his arm.

“Stark,” Fury said, “sit the fuck down.”

“Okay, I’m going to.” Said Tony, “But because _I_ want to. Not because _you_ told me to.” Tony slumped back down into his seat, and picked the last few sheets of Bruce’s paper up off the floor, handing them to him.

“Can we just get on with meeting and ignore the dog?” Fury rubbed his eye.

“So does it have a name?” Maria asked, walking over to the chair beside Clint, giving the dog a scratch on the head as she passed.

“No! Stop with the dog.” Fury pleaded.

“Yeah.” Steve answered Maria eagerly. “He’s called ‘Dain’.”

“Dain? That’s pretty cool. Unique.”

Steve smiled. “Thor came up with it.”

“Stupid dog.” Fury mumbled and sat down in his chair at the head of the desk.

“Really?” Maria asked.

“I did!” Thor declared proudly, puffing out his chest. “Dain is a creature I was very fond of as a child. Though I cannot accept all of the acclaim. Lady Natasha suggested the title for our miniature wolf.”

“Dog, Thor, dog.” Tony smirked.

“He’s pretty cute.” Maria smiled, and reached down to pet him again.

Apparently approving of her attention, Dain stood and pushed his way through Clint’s legs to sit on top of Maria’s feet.

“Looks like you’ve got a new best friend.” Natasha grinned.

Clint shook his head, smiling. “As long as he remembers who picks up his poop.”

“I hate you all.” Fury fumed. “All of you. Every single one of you. Especially the dog.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it took me so long to update-I don't know why that is. Haha. 
> 
> Review please! I love reading them! xxx


	10. Nat is Going to Kill Stark

Natasha was going to kill Tony. She was actually going to _murder_ him with her bare hands, and she knew three hundred and seventy six ways to do that, _and_ was going to describe all three hundred and seventy six ways to him in _great_ detail before she performed number eighty-two so slowly that he was going to be begging for the sweet release of death for _hours_ before she granted him that mercy.

“Whacha thinkin’ about?” Clint interrupted her private fantasy from the chair next to her.

Natasha allowed herself to fume for another silent few seconds before she turned to Clint and made the conscious effort to tone down her expression of loathing.

“I’m thinking about how I’m going to eighty-two Stark until he begs for me to finish him off.”

Clint’s expression turned to one of horror and then warped slightly into one of genuine concern. He folded his arms over his chest. “You’re talking about number eighty two on the bare kill list right?” He asked, and Natasha considered him oddly.

“What else?” She asked.

Relief flooded Clint’s face and he relaxed slightly in the chair. “Oh, thank fuck. For a second I thought you were talking about our sex list.”

Natasha actually laughed out loud at that. She recovered enough to see that Clint appeared genuinely hurt, but then his smirk reappeared and she couldn’t help but mirror the expression.

“You thought I wanted to eighty-two with Stark? Honey, you know that’s only reserved for you.”

“I had a brief lapse of judgement. Very brief.” Clint argued.

“You thought I wanted to give him a hand job while mid-flight in a fighter jet?” she smiled.

“We should eighty-two more often.” Clint grinned, and winked at her.

“The fact that you didn’t crash and kill us both in that situation, still amazes me.”

“I’m just _that_ good, baby.”

Natasha rolled her eyes, but her smile remained nonetheless.

The door behind them burst open and both agents looked around to see Director Fury storm in, leather coat tails whipping his ankles as he entered. The door slammed so viciously behind him, that Natasha heard the two strengthened glass windows on either side, rattle in their frames.

“You can wipe those smiles off of your faces if you want to live long enough to see the sun come up tomorrow.” Fury growled.

Both of the agents sobered up their expressions and moved in their seats to face their boss, who had taken up residence in the large leather chair on the other side of the black desk. Natasha schooled her features into an expression of confidence and squared her shoulders.

Fury turned to her. “Don’t even play with me, Romanoff. I am _this_ close,” he pinched two fingers almost together, “to shipping the both of you out to opposite ends of the planet in places so remote, even the sat-phones will fail you. So don’t you fucking _dare_ try to even pretend that I am not intimidating you now.”

Fury glowered at her and although she refused to _show_ him how much he did actually intimidate her, Natasha did not continue with her usual haughty persona she adopted when she was being reprimanded.

“Same goes for you, Barton.” The Director turned to him. “Tip me over the edge and I _will_ make sure that Strike: Team Delta is permanently separated and somehow,” he turned back to Natasha, “I don’t think you two want that.”

As frightening as Fury could be, the concept that she and Clint could be separated, both physically and in the working sense, was _terrifying_. Natasha didn’t doubt for a second that Fury would follow through with his threat. She could feel Clint tensing up next to her.

“No, Sir.” Clint said.

It was looking more and more likely that Fury was going to reach the ‘April Fools 04’ level of rage. Perhaps even surpass it. Natasha watched as the Director’s face twisted into a scowl so threatening that even _she_ felt enough unease to look away from him. Instead, Natasha directed her gaze to Clint, who looked like was ready to bolt from the office at any second.

“You realise that I am going to blame you two for all the damages, right?” Fury said in a low voice.

Clint looked over at Natasha with a blank expression and sat up straighter in his seat. As excited as they had been that morning to piss off their boss, in the current reality, the situation was significantly more intimidating than they had first anticipated. It had got out of control very quickly. The worst of it was, that for once they weren’t even to blame.

Natasha really was going to kill Stark.

“Barton! Romanoff!” Fury barked, and although neither of the assassins jumped, they were taken back enough by the Director’s outburst to whip their heads round in his direction.

Fury took a deep breath and looked back at both of them. “There is a dog, _your_ dog,” he said slowly, “running around my base, unsupervised, in an area with extremely dangerous and _incredibly expensive_ objects. We are at the moment, unable to track it, and so it is missing. Do you understand?”

“Yes, Sir.” They answered in unison.

“You _will_ find that dog. And you _will_ report back to me with the animal in tow. And you will both be held responsible for any damages that I have to explain to the council. Do you understand?”

“Yes, Sir.” Clint answered alone, and at the absence of his partner’s response, he looked to her.

Natasha narrowed her eyes at the Director. “With all due respect, _sir_ , why are we being held responsible when it was Stark who lost the dog? And Dain is not just _our_ dog.”

Fury tilted his head menacingly. “You knew Stark was bringing the animal to SHIELD?”

“Yes.” She answered.

“And you both, two of my most senior and _best_ agents, failed to stop him?” Fury questioned. Neither answered, which was apparently all the answer he needed. “Then _that_ is why I am holding you responsible. Stark, I expect this shit from. Not you, two.”

“That isn’t fair.” Natasha dared to argue.

“ _Life_ , Romanoff, is not fair. Now I am not having this argument with you. I am your _boss_ not your _Principal_ , so stop acting like bratty teenagers and go and get that motherfucking dog out of my motherfucking weapons’ cache!”

Clint stood and put a hand on Natasha’s arm. She glared at the Director before standing and allowing herself to be led from the office by the archer.

The door closed and the two assassins slumped slightly against the opposite wall.

“You know that weapons storage is eight square miles of crates and corridors?” Clint mumbled.

“I’m aware.”

“This is going to take is forever to find Dain.”

“I’m aware.”

“If that dog has even a patch of fur that out of place, I am going to tear Stark limb from limb.”

Natasha nodded. “Ditto.”

“Hey,” Clint said, and Natasha looked up at him, “can I forty-six Stark for a bit, just before you finish him off with an eighty-two?”

“Wow, Clint.” She smirked, nudging his chest with her shoulder. “Pretty kinky.”

“I’m not talking about the sex list.” He grinned.

“Oooh! Sex list? Do tell!” Tony Stark strolled down the corridor towards the couple, a bag of dried banana in one hand.

Natasha’s eyes narrowed and her lip twitched into a scowl. Tony stopped in his tracks and held out the bag.

“Banana?”

Natasha growled.

“Um, you know it was an accident, right?” Tony asked, shifting his weight. “I didn’t _mean_ to lose the dog in the most dangerous area of SHIELD during a potential security breach where none of the security cameras can be accessed. You sure you don’t want a banana?” Tony took a step back and both Natasha and Clint took a step forward. “It’s healthy. Meant to help with menstrual cramps…”

Clint leaned down to speak quietly in Natasha’s ear. “Leave some of him for me, eh, Nat?”

“Of course, love. Wouldn’t want to have all the fun to myself.” She replied.

Tony dropped his banana and sprinted in the opposite direction.

Natasha glanced over at Clint. “Target practice?”

He whipped a dart from a holster on his hip. “Try and stop me.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Reviews are fantastic. Let me know what you think. xxxx


	11. The Assassins are Psychos

Despite having a fair head start down the corridor, Tony knew that it was pointless to even attempt to evade the oncoming attacks from the two assassins. But damn it, he was going to try. The corridor was long and straight, and housed only one room at the end of it, Fury’s office, where Natasha and Barton stood their ground. This meant that Tony really only had one option: run, cover, and hope for the best.

The billionaire whipped around and began tearing down the hall, left to right.

“I’m zigzagging like you would do to outrun an alligator!” he called over his shoulder, arms coming up to protect his head as he glimpsed Barton pull an arm back. “I’m too young and handsome to die!”

“Ready?” Barton called.

Tony slowed his escape and turned to his teammates. “For what?”

Natasha smirked and threw a knife into the air, catching it gracefully by the hilt as the fluorescent lights glinted on the blade. The Russian nodded to her partner, who adjusted his stance slightly, and whipped the small dart in his hand to a tiny spot above Tony’s head. He ducked pointlessly and watched in awe as the dart stuck into a panel on the ridge of the ceiling, and two shutters came rolling down from above; one behind him and one behind the assassins, cutting both parties off from the rest of the building. Tony stopped completely, unable to go any further ahead, the blood draining from his face. He was trapped.

“I didn’t think you were _actually_ going to kill me.” He whimpered.

“Ready?” Barton said again.

“For what?” Tony repeated.

Barton and Natasha looked at each other, smiling evilly. The silent conversation they appeared to be having unnerved Tony more than the situation itself.

Barton grinned and shook his head at Natasha. “Go for it, babe.”

After a few moments of eerie silence, Natasha nodded and turned back to Tony, holding up her dagger. “I’m not going to kill you.”

Tony slumped against the shutter behind him in relief.

“Yet.” She clarified.

Tony looked to Barton, who shrugged, still grinning.

“I’ll give you a choice, Stark.” Romanoff began moving backwards. “You’re going to get those cameras in the weapons cache online and you’re going to help us find Dain.”

“Yes.” Tony agreed. “Yes, of course.”

Barton smirked.

“That wasn’t the choice.” Natasha glared. “Your choice is: Clint,” Clint waved his fingers at Tony, “or me.”

Both assassins had backed up as far as they could go, backs pressed against the shutter, as Tony was. They were as far away from him as they could possibly manage in the situation, and yet, if anything, Tony thought they were even more frightening than they were seconds before, standing closer.

“Um.” Tony looked between them. “For what?” he said for a third time.

“Natasha, or me.”

“Clint, or me. Choose.”

“You get until five.” Clint smiled. “One.”

“Guys, let’s just talk…”

“Two.” Natasha ran a finger along the blade.

“Please, I just-,”

“Three.” Clint pulled another dart from his hip.

“-we don’t need to be rash-,”

“Four.” Natasha stepped forward and drew her arm back.

“-I want to live!”

“Five.” Clint cocked his head to the side. “Time’s up, Tony. I guess you chose us both.”

“Fuck.”

“This is going to hurt.” Natasha informed him.

“ _Fuck_.”

Tony didn’t even witness the objects fly, but he felt the sharp sting of Clint’s dart hit him in his right hip, just as something solid clocked him in the left shoulder. The sheer force of whatever had hit him in the shoulder knocked Tony to the ground and made his head spin. He lay on the cool ground and closed his eyes against the pain spreading through his arm. Tony felt, more than heard, the shutters behind him open and he dared to crack open an eye. Black leather boots stared back at him.

“Am I dead?” he asked Natasha’s feet.

“Not yet.” She replied coolly. “If we killed you, you couldn’t help find the dog, now, could you?” She bent down and picked something up off the ground next to him. It glinted.

Tony sat up slowly and rubbed his eyes, his head still swimming. Behind him, Barton chuckled to himself.

“You threw a knife at me.”

“Now, you’re going to get your ass down to tech and get those cameras working.” She instructed.

“We have eight miles of weaponry to search through because of you, Stark.” Barton nudged his back with his knee.

“ _You threw a knife at me._ ”

“Stark! Get over it. That was like five minutes ago.”

“A knife. The one that you are now holding, was thrown at _m_ e, by _you_.”

“And you’re fine. I threw it so the handle would hit your shoulder. And it did.”

Clint smiled proudly. “My girl never misses a shot.”

“I could have _died,_ Romanoff. You could have killed me!”

“You’re fine, Stark. Don’t be so dramatic.”

“Yeah.” Clint agreed. “At least you’re not lost in eight square miles of weapons.”

“I hate you, Romanoff.”

Natasha smirked. “Me? What did I do? Bruise your ego? You should be more concerned about what Clint did to you.”

“What threw a dart at my crotch? I mean it stung like a bitch but I can’t feel anything now, so what was even the point?” Tony scrubbed a hand over his face.

“That _was_ the point.” Clint grinned.

“Huh?”

“Can’t feel anything?” Natasha prompted.

Tony’s eyes grew wide as realisation dawned on him. He looked down at his legs in panic and desperately tried to get them to respond. He jabbed a finger at his knee and heard Natasha snicker.

“You _paralysed_ me!” Tony stared up at Clint in horror.

“Don’t be a baby.” Barton teased.

“ _I can’t walk, you psycho._ ”

“Temporarily.” Barton smiled. “You’ll be back to normal in a few hours.”

“ _Why_ would you even carry a dart that had the ability to paralyse someone?”

“Reasons.” Clint shrugged.

“Both of you, both of you are psychopaths.”

“Calm down. We just didn’t want you to think you could escape. Clint, if you would.” Natasha smiled.

“What is- put me down!” Tony yelled as Clint hoisted him over his shoulder fire fighter style. “I do _not_ deserve this treatment!”

“And Dain does not deserve to be stuck in a very life-threatening situation, but he is, so…” Natasha drawled as she walked ahead of the two men, leading the way to the main tech suite.

“You two love that stupid dog more than you love me.” Tony huffed into Clint’s back.

“We don’t love you.” He replied, hitching him up over his shoulder more than necessary. “So, yes. We do love the dog more than you.”

“That is a blatant lie. How could you _not_ love me?”

“For reasons like this?” Barton jostled him again.

“Psychos.” Tony muttered.

Xxxxxxx

Clint unceremoniously dropped Tony into the nearest chair he could find in the head tech room of SHIELD. The lack of feeling in his legs, mixed with the unbalanced position Clint had left him in, caused Tony to immediately slide off the side of the swivel chair, into a heap on the floor.

“Billionaire down!” Clint announced to the other agents in the room, and Natasha smirked.

“Tony, why are you on the ground?” Bruce asked from his position at the door.

“Because,” Tony smiled sarcastically, “our resident assassins are psychopaths who decided to _paralyse_ me.”

“Oh. Okay.” Bruce walked around him. “You going to help with this whole security fiasco? God knows where that dog is now.” He wandered over to the chair opposite Tony and sat himself in front of a computer, sipping from a Styrofoam coffee cup. “I tried to hack into the mainframe, but firewalls aren’t exactly my field of expertise.”

“Bruce,” Tony said from the floor. “Aren’t you at all concerned that Barton and Romanoff tried to kill me?”

“You did lose their dog.” Bruce mumbled from behind the monitor.

“ _Our_ dog.” Natasha corrected.

“She threw a knife at me!”

“Did you get stabbed?”

“Well no, but-,”

“Then you’re fine, Tony. Come on, aside from the fact that the dog might kill itself, Fury seems to think there’s stuff in that cache that could kill us all if Dain decides to use it as a chew toy. I don’t know about you but I’d like to live.”

“You’re supposed to be my best friend.” Tony grumbled, dragging himself up to the level of the desk. “I’ll have to call Pepper for some sympathy.”

“I wouldn’t count on that.” Natasha said. “I just texted her and she’s really mad at you for losing Dain.”

“Fuck.”

“Like really _really_ mad.”

“Fuck! This is all that stupid dog’s fault!”

“Hey,” Clint stood up straighter as he spoke, “don’t you dare blame Dain, this is _your_ fault, Tony.”

“You were the one who decided it would be fun to let him off the leash on a _very_ dangerous floor of the building.” Natasha placed a hand on the hilt of her dagger.

“Guys!” Bruce stood, commanding the attention of everyone in the room. “Why don’t we all just calm down and get this all cleared up? Huh? Because you’re stressing me out, and…” Bruce made a vague gesture with his hands and the lesser agents around the room murmured uncomfortably. “I’m not great with stress.”

“Bruce is right.” Natasha sighed and looked to Clint. “We need to get down there. And you guys need to get all the security cams back online. There’s no way we’ll find him without a little help.”

“Okay, let’s go.” Clint grabbed Natasha’s hand and headed for the door.

Tony glowered at them, still on the ground. “Hey! Spidey, Robin Hood! Do you _want_ me to help you save your fricking dog or not? Because I can’t do it from down here.”

Clint rolled his eyes at Natasha and let her hand go to lift Tony up by his arms, putting him back into the chair. Tony manoeuvred himself slightly using his arms, and then gradually lifted them up, testing his balance.

“Okay, then.” The billionaire whipped a small device out from a pocket in his jeans and clipped it to the side of the computer monitor. “Operation: Puppy Rescue is a go.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for all the reviews! . 
> 
> Let me know what you think. – Panic xxx


	12. We Shoot to Kill

Natasha stepped into the elevator first, followed by Clint, Steve and Thor- fully suited up- coming in last. The doors slid shut and Natasha pressed an unlit button the bottom of the controls.

“The weapon’s cache is a secure basement floor all of it’s own. Eight square miles of weapons and highly dangerous equipment. There’s a reason that stuff is all underground.” She said, turning to a panel on the wall that slid away to reveal a screen and keypad.

“Perfect place for a dog to roam alone.” Clint mumbled.

Natasha ignored him. “So we all need to get approval before we can go down.”

“What do you mean-,” Steve began to ask, but the elevator’s voice-over cut him off.

“Authorisation needed.” A female voice echoed around the elevator.

Steve and Thor looked toward the ceiling and Clint snorted.

“The twenty-first century is a confusing place.” Clint mocked.

Steve shot him a look. “Approval? Authorisation?” he questioned Natasha, watching as she bent down to have her eye scanned. The scanner glowed green.

“Retinal scan complete.” The voice announced. “Agent Natasha Romanoff. Strike: Team Delta. Confirmed.”

“Seems pretty excessive.” Steve commented to Clint.

Natasha began tapping a code into the keypad with a practiced ease.

“Access code: Correct.”

“You been down to the WC?” Clint asked, moving around Natasha to take his place in front of the scanner. Steve and Thor shook their heads simultaneously. “It’s not the sort of place you want just anyone to be able to walk into.”

“He’ll be okay.” Steve said. “Dain will be fine.”

“Yeah. I hope so.” Clint followed the same procedure as Natasha had done, and waited for the scanner to glow green.

“Retinal scan complete. Agent Clinton Barton. Strike: Team Delta. Confirmed.”

Clint groaned and Natasha smirked. “It’s Clint, not ‘Clinton’,” he whined, “ _Clint._ ”

“Agent Clinton Barton. Strike: Team Delta. Confirmed.” The voice repeated.

“She’s mocking me.” Clint said to Natasha.

“She’s also not a real person.” Nat rolled her eyes as she secured a firearm to her hip.

“Whatever.” Clint huffed.

Steve watched the archer reach out to the keypad, Clint’s fingers a blur, as he typed in the six-digit code.

“Access code: Correct.”

“Okay.” Natasha stood, her back pressed against the wall of the elevator, arms folded and eyebrow quirked. “Now you two.”

“I am required to peer into the light in order to gain access?” Thor asked.

“Yeah.” Clint clapped him on the back. “Just look in the light, don’t blink.”

“And then I will be permitted to partake in the rescue of our beloved furry friend?”

“Sure.”

“What should I expect to occur if the absent female declares I am not worthy of entrance?”

“It shoots a tiny little needle into your eye that knock you unconscious for six hours.” Clint shrugged casually, and Thor gawked at him in horror. “You won’t die, but _god_ it hurts like a bitch.”

Thor looked to the scanner, then to Natasha and Steve, and took a small step back from the panel.

“Clint, you dumbass.” Natasha smirked. “Now you’ve gone and scared Thor.”

“I am not afraid!” Thor’s voiced rumbled around the tiny metal room.

Clint leaned against the wall next to Natasha, also smirking.

“Should I _not_ have told him that?” He whispered to Natasha.

“Probably not.” She answered.

Steve stepped forward.

“How about I go first?” He suggested.

Despite having witnessed both Clint and Natasha have their retina’s scanned, and _not_ be subjected to a needle in their eyes, Thor seemed relieved that Steve was willing to be the first of the two of them to try.

Natasha sighed impatiently. “Just look in the light. Don’t blink, and then enter the code. We got a loose dog in eight miles of concentrated danger to rescue.”

Steve nodded, bent down, and looked into the light. He had to strain not to blink as the bright laser momentarily blinded him, but then it glowed green.

“Retinal scan complete.” The female voice announced. “Captain Steven Rogers. Confirmed.”

“Now the code.” Natasha said.

Steve turned back to her and Clint. “What is it?” he asked, finger hovering over the keypad.

Apparently having reached her quota of patience with them, Natasha huffed and pushed past Steve, entering it for him.

“Access code: Correct.”

“Now Thor.” Natasha’s no-nonsense tone of voice seemed to scare the God of Thunder more than the prospect of the scanner, and he complied, leaning forward to look in the light. “Don’t blink.” She grumbled as a reminder.

“Widow,” Thor said as he looked into the scanner, “I am extremely confident that we will locate dear Dain unharmed and well, very soon. Do not fret, Lady Widow.”

“I’m not fretting.”

“Retinal scan Complete. Thor.”

Clint smiled. “We need to get you a title, dude.”

Thor stood and allowed Natasha to enter the code on his behalf.

“Access code: Correct.” The voice said. “Access to the Weapon’s Cache: Granted.”

“Well thank fuck for that.” Natasha mumbled.

“I have many titles, Archer.” Thor informed Clint as the elevator began to descend. “Son of Odin, God of Thunder, Einridi; the one who rides alone-,”

“I get it.” Clint interrupted. “You have many titles, but I mean at SHIELD. ‘Thor’?” Clint looked over to Natasha. “He needs a least a prefix. Am I right?”

Natasha smiled but rolled her eyes, turning her attention to the descending numbers on the elevator display, instead of answering. Steve followed her line of slight, frowning when the numbers ran out and the display turned black.

“How far under SHIELD _is_ the WC?” he asked.

Natasha continued to watch the black screen. A small red square appeared on it, and she placed a hand to her ear, removing the small earpiece. Clint also took out his devices.

“Comms out.” Natasha instructed. Thor and Steve looked at her blankly. “Now.” She looked sharply at both of them. Quickly, they too, took out their earpieces.

“Your ears will begin to pop as the air pressure changes.” She informed them, eyes back on the display with the red square. “If you leave an earpiece in when that happens it can be painful, especially this far below sea level.”

“How far under are we going?” Steve asked again, this time looking to Clint for an answer, grimacing as his ears began popping.

Clint’s eyes remained on the display Natasha was looking at, but didn’t answer.

Natasha glanced at her partner and answered for him. “You wouldn’t believe me if I told you, Cap.” She answered.

The elevator came to halt.

“We have arrived?” Thor asked.

“Looks like it.” Steve said, adjusting his hold on his shield.

“Doors opening.” The female voice told them.

Natasha nudged Clint with her elbow and he stood straighter, squaring his shoulders. The doors slid open, and Clint and Natasha stepped out, perfectly in sync as they turned a sharp corner and stood in the dimly lit hallway, waiting for Steve and Thor.

The Asgardian prince and the super soldier followed the assassins out, both looking around the bare hallway with interest. Clint and Natasha pushed their comms back in.

“This is a part of SHIELD less commonly travelled than the upper levels, I assume.” Thor commented of the barren hall.

“Not many people allowed down here.” Clint shrugged. “And those that are, tend to avoid it if they can.”

“You can put your comms back in, now.” Natasha said. “We need to calibrate them again.”

Steve frowned at her in question.

“Signals tens to get scrambled on the way down here.” Clint said in answer to his silent question. “Nat? Ready?” Clint held out a small rectangular device to Natasha, his thumb holding down one end. She placed her thumb on the other and life crackled into the comms.

“Communications. SHIELD. 6-7-8-3.” Clint said clearly.

Thor and Steve watched quietly. An unfamiliar man’s voice sounded through their earpieces.

“ _Accepted. Next.”_ The man said.

“Communications. SHILED. 6-7-5-6.” Natasha said.

“ _Accepted_.” The man said and Clint tucked the little rectangle back into his pocket. “ _Request?”_

“Calibration. WC, four, link.” Clint said.

Steve listened carefully, assessing all of what was being said and searching for any kind of meaning. From what he could gather, none of it was military code. This was all exclusive to SHIELD and apparently only exclusive to the most experienced of agents. He felt slightly hurt that this was all completely foreign to him, but then how many times had Stark told him that SHILED’s secrets had secrets? Of the Avengers, only Clint and Natasha seemed to be aware of this underground weapons base.

“ _Confirmed_.” The male voice said. “ _Patching you through_.”

The comms made an unpleasant crackle that made Thor wince and Steve jump. Clint and Natasha appeared not to notice, or at least, not to care.

“ _Hey, hey, hey! Super squad! So you finally made it down to the depths of hell_. _How’s it going? We’re doing great up here, right Banner?_ ” Tony Stark’s voice assaulted all of their ears.

“ _Just great.” Bruce said._

“ _How you holding up, Capcicle? You’re almost at the centre of the earth. Don’t want you to start melting_.”

“Shut up, Stark.” Natasha snapped, striding down the corridor towards the single door at the bottom. “You got any security back online?”

“ _We’re trying.”_ Bruce’s voice said. “ _But whatever took out the security did a good job. Fury’s freaking out.”_ He said in a lower volume.

“Really?” Clint asked. “Has he cried yet? Please tell me I didn’t miss him crying!”

“Clint!” Natasha smacked him on the back of the head. Thor and Steve winced for him. “Priorities.”

“Right.” Clint recovered. “Stark? Security?”

“ _Working on it!”_ Tony said impatiently. “ _You guys almost there? I’m not sure how long I trust that dog to be alone in a room full of weapons_.” Tony grumbled over the comm.

“You better hope he’s alone.” Natasha breathed.

“This is all your fault, Stark. Shut the hell up!” Clint replied as he adjusted the quiver on his back. “And yes, we’re almost there.”

Steve and Thor followed the two assassins down the corridor, as the large metal door at the end of the hall came into clearer view.

“What a dick.” Natasha announced to the group.

Clint snickered.

“ _You know I can hear everything you’re saying, right?”_ Tony’s voice crackled through.

“Yes.” Nat said blankly.

“ _Oh, good_.” Tony said, words dripping with sarcasm.

As they approached the door, Steve took a step ahead of Natasha and Clint. He bent down slightly, making a thorough inspection of the door. The heavy-duty seal remained locked into place after Tony had escaped almost being locked in, an hour or so earlier.

“Doesn’t look like any signs of forced entry.” Steve observed of the door to the Weapon’s cache. “So I guess that’s a positive.”

“ _And how’s that?”_ Tony asked.

“Well, there was a security breach, right?” Steve ran his hand over the edge of the door. “I thought maybe that breach was someone trying to get in.”

“ _It was_.” Bruce commented. “ _Tony was in there_. _He set of the alarms.”_

“But he was authorised.”

Realisation dawned on Natasha as she followed Steve’s train of thought.

“So it must have been someone else trying to get in.” She said quietly, looking to Clint. He frowned and swallowed hard.

“But my point is,” Steve continued, shooting another glance at the door, “it doesn’t _look_ as though anyone unauthorised tried to get in.”

“ _So what, you think it’s a fluke?”_ Bruce asked.

“It’s possible that the security breach is just coincidence and that Tony’s number on the door caused the lockdown.” Steve said.

“That is certainly a relief, Captain.” Thor smiled. “And this ‘lockdown’, we are able to override it in order to gain access to Dain’s current whereabouts?”

“ _Sure thing, goldilocks. I can override a lockdown in my sleep, which evidently, half my body is_.”

“You are still suffering the effects of the archer’s dart, it seems.”

“ _He fell off the chair twice more while you guys were in the elevator_.” Bruce said, the smile evident in his voice. “ _We had to duct tape him to the back rest._ ”

Steve sniggered, the image of Tony taped to a computer chair at the forefront of his mind. He turned to Natasha and Clint to share in the humour, but they seemed at first glance to be swatting invisible flies and attempting to flick each other, with no focus on Tony or Bruce. But then it dawned on the Captain that they were conversing through hand gestures. Thor looked on with a puzzled look; apparently he was just as in the dark about sign language as Steve.

“Guys.” Steve said. “Care to involve the rest of the group?”

“ _What’s going on?”_ Tony asked.

“The archer and the Widow appear to be communicating through abstract gestures rather than with the spoken word.”

“It’s sign language.” Clint broke off his and Natasha’s ‘conversation’ to inform Thor.

“ _Well I can’t see you_ ,” Tony huffed, “ _and even if I could, I’m not very well versed in ASL so, if you’d care share with the group, I’d be much obliged_.”

“Jackass.” Natasha grumbled.

“ _Come on, guys. Time is of the essence and all that_.” Bruce said calmly.

“Fine.” Natasha pressed her lips into a thin line and looked to Clint. “Stark, you need to inform Fury that if we _do_ have an intruder, if that _is_ what we’re dealing with here,” she sighed, “then they didn’t come through this way.”

“ _What are you talking about, Romanoff_?”

Clint put a hand on her elbow and Natasha covered it with her own hand. “This isn’t the only way in.”

Tony’s line was silent for a moment before he spoke again. “ _There’s a back door_.” He stated.

“There’s a back door.” Clint confirmed. “And if we’ve got intruders in the cache who came in the back way, the least of our problems is-,”

“A lost dog.” Natasha finished for him. She took out a card from a pouch on her belt and slipped in into a tiny slot on the door.

“I want that dog found safe.” She said authoritatively, removing the card. A small ‘click’ and the distinct sound of metal cogs turning, sounded. “But,” Natasha turned to the rest of the rescue team, “it has to be understood that priorities have been altered. We need to find Dain, but if we do have people in there that shouldn’t be, we’re shooting to kill.”

“You can’t make that call.” Steve argued taking a step forward.

“Yes she can.” Clint took a step towards the Captain so they were almost toe-to-toe. Clint was significantly shorter than Steve, but his posture no less threatening. “In the Avengers, you’re the boss, Cap. But here, Natasha and I are in command.”

“Is that understood?” Natasha looked between Thor and Steve. “You listen to our instruction. Right now, that’s shoot to kill any unfriendlies.”

“Indeed, Widow, Archer.” Thor nodded. “I will obey your commands.”

Steve frowned and took a moment before answering. “Okay.” He took a step back from Clint.

“Banner? Stark?” Clint prompted.

“ _Sure_.” Tony stated, sounding distant. “ _Thermal imaging in the WC back online_.”

“ _Yes_.” Bruce said. Then added, “ _Fury’s here_.”

“ _Barton? Romanoff?_ ” Fury barked through the comms.

“Sir?” Both answered simultaneously.

“ _Stark got thermals in the cache but no more luck with accessing the mainframe security within the inner compound. Searching for your_ pet _now.”_

“And what of the,” Clint paused and glanced at Steve and Thor, “um, _back door_.”

“ _Dealing with it.”_ Tony mumbled. “ _We’ve got a thermal search going. All life forms; canine, human… etc._ _Locking it down from the outside is our only option_.”

“ _What he means,”_ Fury said, “ _is get your asses into the weapons cache right now and get this shit sorted out, or you’re gonna be locked out_. _We don’t have enough eyes, with security almost completely down, to do a quick search for trespassers._ ”

“Wait a second. You’re going to lock us in?” Steve asked, as Natasha and Clint began wrenching open the large metal door. It slid open to reveal a massive expanse of crates inside a cavernous area.

“ _Temporarily lock you in_ ,” Stark clarified, “ _and hopefully lock any intruders in_.”

“ _Trespassers.”_ Fury stated. _“Shoot to kill the fuckers.”_

“We’ve established that.” Steve grumbled.

Clint took a deep breath and turned to Natasha. “That dog better know how much we love him.”

She turned to him and nodded. “Ditto. Let’s go get our puppy back.” She cocked her gun.

“ _You’re going soft, Romanoff.”_ Tony sang.

“Go fuck yourself you narcissistic asshole.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tune in next time for the search for Dain the Avenger dog and potential threats! Review please! And thanks for reading.
> 
> Also, check out my companion fic ‘Tony Should Not be Trusted With a Dog’, showing how exactly Tony managed to lose Dain. Comes between chapter 9 and 10 of this fic.
> 
> And feel free to leave suggestions for other extra fics you want to see, that are unseen snippets from this story. :)


	13. Dain is Lost

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bit of inner thoughts from Dain's POV in this one, and a bit of Tony under pressure.

Dain did not like being down here in the scary room. When Tony was with him, it was great, because the room was huge, way more room to run than at home and even than at the park. But then there was loud noises that made Dain’s ears hurt, and flashing lights that made Dain feel a bit dizzy and suddenly he was alone and frightened and Tony wasn’t with him and he couldn’t even smell Mommy or Daddy, or even Thor, and Dain could _always_ smell Thor.

Thor smelled like food, mostly. Dain liked that.

Usually, Dain was pretty good with direction. More than once he had gotten himself a bit lost in the park when he was looking for his tennis ball in the bushes, and sometimes he accidentally got locked in the uppy-downey box at home and he would end up in a place he had never seen before, but he always found his way back. This massive room with the many boxes and the scary noises and flashy lights, was very different. It all looked the same, and Dain suddenly realised he had no idea which way to go.

Dain wanted to go home. He wanted to sleep in bed with Daddy (even though that was naughty) and cuddle on the couch with Mommy (even though he wasn’t meant to be on the couch) and be fed Pop Tarts by Thor (even though his tummy always hurt afterwards). He didn’t want to be lost in the scary room.

The horrible sound stopped, and most of the lights stopped flashing, and that was when Dain heard a different noise. A distant scraping noise came from the direction Dain was facing, followed by a grunt and grumble. Dain stilled, listening again. His ears pricked with sensitivity.

There was another sound. A lower sound of voices. People. _People._

Dain put his nose down to sniff. He couldn’t smell Tony, or Mommy or Daddy, but it could be them. It could be!

He took off quickly towards the direction of the voices, eyes pealed for his family.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

“How far forward are you to getting this security back online, Stark?” Fury leered over his shoulder and scanned over the cryptic coding on Tony’s monitor with his one good eye.

“I’m _trying_.” Tony muttered in response.

“Well try _harder_.” Fury pushed Tony’s chair closer to the desk, essentially crushing his ribs, before taking off to the other side of the room.

Bruce rolled his eyes and reached out to free Tony, who remained duct taped to the swivel computer chair.

“How’s your legs?” Bruce asked, attempting to situate Tony in a more comfortable position.

Tony slapped at Bruce’s hands until he left him be, and pouted petulantly at the monitor. “Still numb. I swear, you could pour boiling coffee in my lap I wouldn’t even flinch.”

Bruce turned back to his computer. “Don’t tempt me.”

Despite the fact that together, Tony and Bruce had managed to get the thermal imaging back online, the whole of the security system for the Weapons Cache was shot. They could see Natasha, Clint, Steve and Thor as little orange blobs on the monitors in front of them and projected onto the large screen at the front of the room, but only because of the SHIELD tracking devices in their suits.

Tony was desperately trying to help, he really was, but the imaging refused to pick up anything else in the WC unless one of the team moved around the space, making the imaging software follow their movements. It was progress, yes, but really, the progress was not aiding the search for the dog _or_ the intruders whatsoever, and this was a time-sensitive mission.

Fury watched from the other side of the room, as Tony tapped away at the keyboard without looking away from the screen. He was muttering to himself constantly, every so often, making a command to Bruce, before going back to his typing. For a fraction of a second, Tony’s face lit up, and Fury stood straighter in anticipation, but then as quick as the expression had formed, Stark’s face warped into one of rage and he mashed the keys with one hand.

“For fuck’s sake!” He hissed, attracting the attention of several junior agents. Tony caught one unlucky sod looking his way and growled at the kid, sending the poor guy scuttling into the opposite corner of the room. The billionaire looked back at the unhelpful screen, and for all his wealth and intelligence, found nothing more appropriate to say then, “Fuck fucking fuckity shit fuck fuuuuck…Crap.”

Bruce rolled his eyes.

Whoever had taken out SHIELD’s best security detailing knew what they were doing. If Tony was certain of one thing, he was certain that this was no accident; no coincidence, despite Steve’s optimism. Whoever did this knew the system better than Tony did, and Tony had hacked the damn thing hundreds of times. The possibility that this whole thing may have been an inside job, washed over Tony like an icy wave.

Being paralysed from the waist down seemed to be making the rest of Tony’s body particularly sensitive, and when he thought about how likely it was that someone had entered the WC through the ‘back door’, it made the back of his neck prick. He told himself the pricking was the result of his concern for his own life, and not bubbling guilt for losing Dain and leading four of his best friends into this mess, but the guilt seeped through his walls and became harder to ignore.

“Fuck.” He said again for good measure.

Fury was getting frustrated enough that he began shouting pointless orders at agents who were completely unqualified for the level of computer sciences needed to even engage in the activity. It made him feel better though. Most of the agents in the room, regardless of rank or experience, simply watched the large screen at the end of the room, hoping something relevant would magically show up in place of the ‘BREACHED’ warning in red font atop the thermal images of the four Avengers.

Another hacking programme Tony had JARVIS running in the background, popped up in a red window of negative and he attempted to kick the underside of the desk, only to look helplessly down at his unmoving legs. Instead, in his ever-growing frustration, Tony knocked a fist to the table’s metal leg, making his and Bruce’s computer monitors shake with the impact.

“Did that help?” Bruce asked without looking away from his screen.

“Yes.” Tony mumbled, rubbing his stinging knuckles.

“Did that hurt?” Bruce asked turning to him.

“Yes.” Tony mumbled again, frowning hard at Bruce’s smirk. “I hate you.”

“Mmhm.” Banner turned his attention back to his screen. He brought up the comm system and addressed the team. “Okay, guys, I can see you entering the WC.” Bruce said into the comm.

Tony looked at his own screen, where blobs of orange moved slowly into the room. Two at the front of the group; he assumed Nat and Clint, and two at the back on either side- Steve and Thor.

 _“Can you see anyone else?”_ Barton asked through the comm. _“Dain? Trespassers?”_

_“Can’t you just lock on to any other heat sources?”_ Romanoff said. _“It would lead us straight to Dain, or…whoever else.”_ She paused. _“Stark, what the hell are you two actually doing up there? We need help to find him, there’s eight-,”_

“Miles of weapons!” Tony interrupted with a huff. “I _know._ Listen,” he ran a hand through his hair, aggravated, “I’m trying my _best_ but it’s taking time. There are eight miles of WC to look though and at the minute there’s no function to lock on to anything other than the tracked agents.”

“That would be you four.” Bruce took over. “We can track you using the SHIELD standard tracking in the suits but that’s it.”

 _“Well what’s the fucking use in that?”_ Barton sighed.

“I’m _trying_.” Tony barked.

He was genius. He _should_ be able to figure this out. Hell, he’d hacked into SHIELD hundreds of times before, he’d even less than two hours ago hacked into the WC himself, so he _should_ be able to get around whatever shit these other dudes were pulling. And that was another thing. Tony now had no reasonable doubt that SHIELD wasn’t compromised. All evidence was pointing to the fact that the four Avengers and their dog, were _not_ the only people in the mass expanse of weapons.

Fury was pacing; worrisome enough. But Hill wasn’t doing anything, and that was worse.

Tony glanced at Agent Hill where she was sat off to the side frowning at the large screen in the room with all the other agents. Everyone else had given up to an extent. Something about the prospect of Maria Hill having lost faith in an operation, shook Tony. He breathed out heavily in an attempt to calm down, get his raging thoughts in order, and his chest unexpectedly shuddered. Tony coughed to cover the weird sensation and frowned heavily at the screen.

“You okay, Tony?” Bruce asked quietly. Pointless Tony thought, they all had comms in, they could all hear what he was saying no matter how quietly.

“Yeah.” Tony swallowed. “Yeah. Fine.” He lied, turning back to the screen with a newfound determination. This was his fault, and he was going to fix it. “It’s all on us, Brucie-,”

“-Don’t’ call me Brucie-,”

“- it’s all on me.”

 _“Well, it is your fault.”_ Natasha muttered, but the fact that it was a mumbled remark more than a barked insult made Tony smile a little.

“You do care.” He grinned.

_“What?”_

“Nothing.” He assured her. “Okay,” Tony spoke loudly enough that all the agents in the room, as well as his friends over the comm could hear him clearly, “here’s what we’re going to do.”

 _“You’ve got a plan?”_ Rogers asked.

“Guys, I’ve got a plan.”

 _“Well thank the lord.”_ Clint murmured. Tony ignored him.

“We’re gonna cut the thermal imaging.” He announced and a chorus of ‘What’s?’ assaulted his ears.

“Tony, that’s all we’ve got.” Bruce said from next to him. “Cut that, and-,”

“Cut that and we have everything else at our disposal. At the minute it’s taking up too much, the system is shot to hell and it was shit to begin with-,”

“Hey!” Fury protested.

“-so take the thermal crap out and we can do more.”

Hill stood, arms folded over her chest, a frown deep set in her brow. “Banner’s right. It’s all we’ve got.”

Tony chuckled, grinning despite the situation and threw his arms up in the air. “Live a little, Agent Hill. Get that stick out of your ass!”

Clint laughed over the comm, before an ‘ooft’ silenced him. Tony suspected Romanoff had punched him.

“Okay, we’re gonna cut the thermals, and then, we’re gonna do a search the good old fashioned way.”

Hill’s frown got impossibly deeper. “Without computers?”

Tony looked personally offended at her suggestion. “God no. But,” he got a glint in his eyes, “we’re gonna have to use our eyes.”

Hill glared at him. “Care to elaborate, Stark?”

“Alright, guys, here’s the plan-,” Tony attempted to stand and address the whole room, only to realise not only could he still not feel his lower half, but he was still securely taped to the swivel chair. With a grumble, cursing Barton for all eternity, Tony shoved his hand under the seat of the chair and it shot up a few more inches, so that his head peeked over the top of his monitors.

Bruce snorted.

“People!” Tony called. “Listen to me, your genius superior, as I inform you of my brilliant plan.”

 _“So modest_.” Natasha mumbled over the comm.

“In exactly,” Tony looked down at his screen, “thirty-seven seconds, I will, with approval, cut the power to the Avengers’ thermal imaging, giving us more power to work with for the rest of the security in the weapons cache. That is where you little agents come in.”

Hill rolled her eyes.

“I can gain access to the cams in the WC, but we can’t run any automatic sweeping programs to look for the dog-,”

“And more _importantly_ the intruders.” Fury interjected.

Tony eyed him. “And the intruders. But more _importantly_ , the dog.” The billionaire began typing while talking, and Bruce reached under his chair to lower the seat. “Anyway, I can patch through cams to each monitor in here, and if we can get eyes on each monitor, we can search manually. Eighteen seconds is my window. I need answers.”

“What do you think, guys?” Hill addressed the team in the WC.

 _“Do it.”_ Cap replied.

“Sorry, Cap.” Fury spoke. “Delta outrank you here.”

“Eleven seconds.”

 _“Do it. We don’t need to be tracked, what we need is to find out how the hell we’ve got people coming in a back door, no one was meant to know existed. Do it, Stark.”_ Clint spoke with such authority that Tony didn’t even blink before he flipped the switch.

“Done.” He declared.

“Alright you fuckers,” Fury barked, “get your asses to a computer and start looking. We’re looking for intruders. Go!”

“And a, and a dog!” Tony called. “Look for the dog, his name is Dain. He’s super cute, but don’t tell Tasha I said that!”

 _“We can still hear you, you dumbass.”_ Clint sniggered.

“God-fucking-damnit!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry this took so long to post. I have no excuses. Sorry. I promise I haven't abandoned it.
> 
> Review?! xxx


End file.
